Egypt  and  Iceland 


IN  THE  YEAR  1874. 


BAYARD  TAYLOR. 


NEW  YORK: 

G.  P.  PUTNAM’S  SONS, 

FOURTH  AVENUE  AN  if  TWENTY-THIRD  STREET. 

I874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874,  by 
BAYARD  TAYLOR, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Lange,  Lrm.B  & Co., 

PRINTERS,  BLBCTBOTVPERS  AND  STERBOTYPKR8. 

108  to  114  Wooster  Street,  N.  Y. 


TO 


WHITELAW  REID, 

WHO,  SUCCEEDING  HORACE  GREELEY  AS  EDITOR  OF  THE 
“NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE,”  SUCCEEDS 
HIM  ALSO  AS 


THE  AUTHOR’S  FRIEND. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I.— EGYPT. 

Chap.  Page 

I.  Alexandria  After  Twenty-two  Years 9 

II.  From  Alexandria  to  Cairo  by  Rail 18 

III.  A New  Picture  of  Cairo 28 

IV.  Sights  In  and  Around  Cairo 37 

V.  A Trip  to  the  Pyramids 44 

VI.  Interview  with  the  Khedive 53 

VII.  Railways  in  Egypt f>3 

VIII.  A Trip  to  the  Fyoom.  69 

IX.  The  Egyptian  Antiquities  at  Boolak 104 

X.  Fragments  of  Early  Egyptian  Literature.  120 

XI.  Egypt  Under  the  Khedive’s  Rule 133 

XII.  Final  Notes  from  Egypt 143 


6 


CONTENTS. 


PART  II.— ICELAND. 

Chap.  Page 

I.  On  the  Way  to  Iceland 153 

II.  A Sketch  of  Iceland’s  History 160 

III.  A Day  at  the  Orkneys 170 

IV.  The  Shetland  Islands 177 

V.  Holiday  at  the  Faroe  Islands 182 

VI.  On  the  Northern  Ocean 189 

VII.  Rejkiavik  and  the  King’s  Arrival 197 

VIII.  Further  Impressions  of  Iceland 206 

IX.  The  Millennial  Celebration  at  Rejkiavik  213 

X.  The  Ride  to  Thingvalla 225 

XI.  From  Thingvalla  to  the  Geysers 233 

XII.  Waiting  for  the  Great  Geyser  to  Spout.  242 

XIII.  The  National  Festival  at  Thingvalla...  254 

XIV.  A New  Political  Era  for  Iceland 266 

XV.  The  Return  to  Rejkiavik  and  Voyage  to 

Scotland 274 


PART  I. 


EGYPT. 


Egypt. 


chapter  i. 


ALEXANDRIA  AFTER  TWENTY-TWO  YEARS. 

Alexandria,  Egypt,  March  14,  1874. 
HEN  we  passed  Crete,  two  days  ago,  the  north 


wind — -the  very  same  “ Euroclydon  ” which 
once  so  interfered  with  the  voyage  of  St.  Paul — grew 
finally  tired  of  blowing,  and  a light  breeze,  with  the 
promise  of  summer  on  its  wings,  stole  over  the  waters 
from  the  unseen  Libyan  shore.  The  gales  which  have 
convulsed  the  Mediterranean  this  winter  left  only  a 
long,  uneasy  swell  behind  them,  and  we  were  even 
glad  to  escape  the  sight  of  land,  coupled  as  it  was  in 
Sicily  and  Calabria  and  Crete  with  that  of  abundant 
snow.  Winter  is  never  so  wearisome  as  when  one  is 
trying  to  escape  it. 

I saw  Egypt  for  the  last  time  in  1852,  when  steam- 
ers were  just  beginning  to  ply  upon  the  Nile,  and  a 
line  of  very  rude  omnibuses  crossed  the  desert  from 
Cairo  to  Suez  about  once  a month.  There  had  been 
a survey  for  a railroad,  I believe,  but  the  first  spadeful 
of  earth  had  not  yet  been  turned,  and  the  Suez  Canal 


10 


EGYPT. 


was  among  the  things  not  only  unprojected,  but 
almost  unmentioned.  Abbas  Pasha  was  making  awk- 
ward attempts  to  introduce  the  European  military  sys- 
tem, upon  the  success  of  which  further  innovations 
seemed  to  be  waiting;  Soudan  was  hardly  subjected 
to  the  Egyptian  rule,  and  Gondokoro,  now  the  start- 
ing-point of  exploration  on  the  White  Nile,  was  then 
its  farthest  limit.  My  own  journey  to  Central  Africa 
was  something  so  unusual  that  it  was  considered  haz- 
ardous, for  scarcely  a dozen  travellers  had  penetrated 
into  Nubia  beyond  the  Second  Cataract. 

All  these  conditions  have  been  wonderfully  changed, 
and  now,  in  returning  for  the  second  time  to  a country 
which,  once  seen,  forever  after  attracts,  my  chief 
interest  will  be  to  ascertain  what  corresponding  change 
has  taken  place  in  the  condition,  the  habits,  and  the 
ideas  of  the  people.  It  is  still  an  undecided  point  how 
far  the  requirements  of  modern  civilization  will — or  can 
— be  accepted  by  any  portion  of  the  Oriental  race, 
since  there  are  so  few  which  do  not  interfere  with 
either  religious  traditions  or  social  usages  of  nearly 
equal  sanctity.  There  is  no  permanence  in  an  exotic 
civilization,  possessed  only  by  the  governing  class, 
as  has  been  the  case  heretofore ; but  now  that 
ship-canal,  railway,  telegraph,  and  printing-press 
are  owned  by  Egypt,  the  native  race  must  per- 
force change  or  go  under.  This  much  by  way  of  in- 
dicating the  point  of  view  which  I have  proposed  to 
myself. 

We  took  passage  at  Naples  on  the  Rubattino  (Italian) 
line  of  steamers,  in  consequence  of  reasonable  recoin- 


ALEXANDRIA. 


ii 


mendation.  The  little,  slow-going  Sicilia,  however, 
with  her  berths  in  which  you  could  not  lie  at  full 
length,  her  cabin  in  which  you  could  not  stand  up- 
right, her  delicate  sympathy  with  the  least  restlessness 
of  the  waves,  and  her  refusal  to  make  more  than  nine 
miles  an  hour  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances, 
was  rather  a sore  disappointment  to  the  seven  Ameri- 
can and  four  English  passengers.  But  the  fifth  morn- 
ing came  at  last,  balmy  and  cloudless,  and  before 
noon  the  pharos  of  Alexandria  hovered  like  a faint 
streak  over  the  far-sparkling  water.  The  white 
houses  on  the  point,  the  Cape  of  Figs,  the  glare  of 
the  sandy  Libyan  coast,  the  windmills  and  clumps 
of  stumpy,  wind-beaten  palm-trees,  rose  and  blended 
into  a low  landscape,  just  as  I had  seen  them  before. 
Then  came  a new  mole,  creating  a grand  artificial 
harbor,  with  an  inner  port,  crowded  with  vessels.  The 
water  was  alive  with  boats  ; dolphins  leaped  through 
the  dancing  ripples,  and  flocks  of  snowy  gulls  circled 
in  the  sun  or  dropped  upon  the  waves.  New  York 
Bay,  on  a fair  June  morning,  is  not  more  bright, 
breezy,  and  joyous. 

My  former  smattering  of  Arabic  seemed  to  come 
back  suddenly  with  the  necessity  for  using  it,  and  the 
vessel  was  barely  anchored  before  I had  bargained 
with  a boatman  to  take  us  ashore.  In  fact,  we  got 
away  so  rapidly  that  a courteous  Egyptian  officer  was 
compelled  to  accompany  us,  in  order  that  there  might 
be  somebody  to  receive  us  at  the  almost  deserted  land- 
ing place.  Passports  are  still  called  for,  which  seems 
a most  unnecessary  regulation,  since  no  fee  is  de- 


12 


EGYPT. 


manded ; a douceur  of  two  francs  to  the  officer  of 
customs  saves  the  necessity  of  opening  trunks,  and 
the  traveller  is  then  admitted  into  the  whirlpool  of 
coachmen,  donkey-drivers,  and  porters,  waiting  in  the 
street  outside.  But  the  cries  and  gesticulations  mean 
nothing  serious,  and  the  stranger  who  has  been  fright- 
ened by  the  representations  of  certain  guide-books  may 
possess  his  soul  in  peace  if  he  only  keeps  a serene 
countenance.  Show  signs  of  timidity  or  bewilderment, 
and  the  uproar  may  rise  to  a fearful  pitch  ; announce 
your  will  briefly,  and  with  an  air  of  calm  authority, 
in  either  English,  French,  or  Italian,  and  you  will  be 
understood  and  readily  obeyed. 

In  twenty  minutes  from  the  time  we  left  the  steam- 
er’s deck  we  were  seated  in  a carriage,  and  threading 
the  narrow  streets  of  the  old  town,  on  our  way  to  the 
Hotel  d’Europe.  I only  needed  to  say,  in  Arabic,  “ I 
have  been  in  Alexandria  before,”  to  change  the  howls 
of  the  porters  into  grins  and  stop  their  clamor  for 
more  pay.  The  noises  which  followed  were  simply 
picturesque — merchants  crying  their  wares,  warnings 
of  coachmen  and  donkey-boys,  or  greetings  and  gos- 
sip in  the  open  booths.  Here  was  old  Alexandria 
still;  nor  was  there  much  sign  of  change  when  we 
emerged  into  the  dusty  and  shabby  “ Grand  Square.” 
A bronze  equestrian  statue  of  Mohammed  Ali,  in  the 
centre  thereof,  now  offends  the  faith  of  Islam,  while 
it  encourages  but  very  slightly  one’s  own  faith  in  art. 
The  hotel  has  added  an  immense  sign,  “Patronized 
by  H.  R.  H.  the  Prince  of  Wales,”  with  the  three 
feathers,  but  omitting  the  “ Ich  dicn,”  which  I thought 


ALEXANDRIA. 


13 


a bad  omen,  until  reassured  by  finding  service  and 
table  really  good. 

A far  larger  stream  of  human  life  and  a more  mot- 
ley mixture  of  nationalities  poured  through  the  square  ; 
otherwise  I noticed  but  one  striking  change.  This  is 
the  astonishing  spread  of  the  English  language  within 
the  last  twenty  years,  resulting  both  from  the  numbers 
of  English  and  American  travellers  who  visit  the  East, 
and  the  use  of  the  language  by  travellers  of  other  na- 
tionalities. French,  which  until  within  the  last  few 
years  was  indispensable,  has  been  slowly  fading  into 
the  background,  and  is  already  less  available  than 
English  for  Italy  and  all  the  Orient.  I wras  not  a little 
surprised,  in  Rome,  at  being  accosted  by  a native 
boot-black  w'ith : “Shine  up  your  boots?’’  In 

Naples,  every  peddler  of  canes,  coral,  photographs, 
and  shell-fish  knows  at  least  enough  to  make  a good 
bargain ; but  this  is  nothing  to  what  one  meets  in  Egypt. 
The  bright-witted  boys  learn  the  language  with  amaz- 
ing rapidity,  and  are  so  apt  at  guessing  what  they  do 
not  literally  understand  that  the  traveller  no  longer 
requires  an  interpreter.  At  the  base  of  Pompey’s 
Pillar  to-day  a ragged  and  dirty  little  girl  came  out 
of  a Fellah  hut  and  followed  us  crying,  “ Give  me  a 
ha’penny ! ” All  the  coachmen  and  most  of  the  shop- 
keepers are  familiar  with  the  words  necessary  for 
their  business,  and  prefer  to  use  them,  even  after  they 
see  that  you  are  acquainted  with  Italian  or  Arabic. 
The  simple,  natural  structure  of  the  English  language 
undoubtedly  contributes  also  to  its  extension.  It  is 
already  the  leading  language  of  the  world,  spoken  by 


EGYPT. 


M 

ninety  millions  of  people  (double  the  number  of  the 
French-speaking  races),  and  so  extending  its  con- 
quests year  by  year  that  its  practical  value  is  far  in 
advance  of  that  of  any  other  tongue. 

In  the  older  streets,  and  especially  in  the  native 
bazars,  all  is  gay,  diversified,  Oriental.  The  faces, 
costumes,  and  dialects  of  Syria,  Tripoli,  and  Tunis 
are  mixed  with  those  of  Egypt,  and  even  groups  of 
wondering  Desert  Arabs  are  a daily  sight.  I saw 
several  this  morning,  evidently  very  much  puzzled  by 
a collection  of  large  children’s  dolls  in  a shop  window ; 
their  faces  were  an  interesting  study.  But  with  what 
a simple  dignity  they  wore  their  ragged  burnouses  ! 
What  fine,  statuesque  grace  in  every  deliberate  move- 
ment or  gesture  ! These  pictures,  which  meet  you  at 
every  turn,  give  to  the  newer  portion  of  Alexandria, 
which  is  architecturally  like  Leghorn  or  Marseilles,  a 
semi  Oriental  character.  Of  its  225,000  inhabitants, 
at  least  100,000  are  of  European  blood.  It  has  more 
than  doubled  in  twenty  years,  and  the  rubbish  of  un- 
finished or  demolished  buildings  meets  your  eye 
wherever  you  go.  The  banking  capital  of  the  city  is 
estimated  at  $125,000,000 — not  much  less  than  that  of 
New-York.  where,  however,  the  amount  of  business 
is  not  always  an  evidence  of  the  basis  upon  which  it 
is  carried  on.  Where  everybody  rode  on  donkeys,  in 
1852,  there  are  now  superb  equipages,  and  the  rich 
merchants  are  building  up  a suburb  of  sumptuous 
villas  and  gardens  at  Ramleh,  four  or  five  miles  to  the 
eastward  of  the  city. 

We  drove  to  the  Pasha’s  garden  under  fair  sunshine, 


ALEXANDRIA. 


15 


through  mild  and  yet  bracing  air ; but  the  signs  of 
a severe  Winter  were  visible  in  the  nipped  and  dilap- 
idated banana  trees,  the  dull  hues  of  the  palms,  and 
the  absence  of  any  but  the  very  first  indications  of 
Spring.  The  sycamore,  fig,  and  mulberry  trees  are 
still  as  naked  and  gray  as  in  Northern  Italy  ; only 
the  almond  and  apricot  are  in  blossom.  The  garden 
seemed  to  be  under  a mysterious  ban;  Summer, 
Spring,  and  Winter  were  mixed  in  the  trees  and 
plants,  as  if  Nature  had  lost  her  calendar  and  were 
feebly  endeavoring  to  find  out  the  season.  A large 
military  band,  in  scarlet  uniform,  played  various 
clashing  and  jingling  pieces  to  about  a hundred  audi- 
tors, and  half  a dozen  gardeners,  in  blue  cotton  caf- 
tans, lounged  about  to  see  that  the  few  geraniums, 
and  gilliflowers  were  not  plucked. 

The  return  along  the  bank  of  the  Mahmoudieh 
Canal  was  altogether  more  satisfactory.  The  winding 
water-course  has  all  the  character  of  a natural  river ; 
native  villages  have  sprung  up  on  the  further  bank; 
native  craft,  towed  by  men,  move  slowly  back  and 
forth;  camels  and  donkeys  bring  loads  of  lush  green 
grass  from  the  fields  beyond;  crowds  of  women  wash 
clothes  or  vegetables  in  the  water,  and  now  and  then 
you  see  a devout  Moslem,  turned  towards  Mecca, 
praying  his  afternoon  prayer.  I remembered  an 
Egyptian  coffee-house,  shaded  with  palms,  but  could 
not  find  it  again.  In  its  place  there  was  a small  Greek 
establishment,  where  an  inferior  Mocha  was  brought 
to  us  in  Frank  cups,  and  even  the  narghileh  had  lost 
its  former  fashion.  Indeed,  our  going  to  such  a place 


i6 


EGYPT. 


at  all  seemed  to  surprise  the  Arab  coachman,  and  to 
be  hardly  welcome  to  the  keeper  of  the  cafe.  But 
what  is  to  become  of  the  Orient  if  its  characteristic  fea- 
tures thus  disappear?  With  the  cafe,  the  story-teller 
will  go  ; next,  the  pipe  and  the  little  cup  of  frothy, 
aromatic  coffee ; and  finally,  the  Egyptian  will  sit  in- 
doors, at  a marble  table,  with  a cigar  in  his  mouth  and 
a bottle  of  soda-water  (?)  before  him. 

Moslem  and  Frank  seem  to  live  very  harmoniously 
here,  side  by  side.  The  former  have  either  conquered 
their  religious  prejudices  or  learned  to  suppress  the 
evidence  of  them.  Even  in  passing  through  the  bazar 
of  the  Tunisians,  who  have  always  been  narrowly  fan- 
atical in  this  respect,  a few  words  in  their  language 
brought  courteous  and  friendly  answers.  Whatever 
Frank  habits  the  people  may  have  adopted,  they  still 
keep  their  grace  and  cheerfulness,  their  clamor  for 
much  and  their  satisfaction  with  little.  I am  inclined 
to  think  that  a change  of  costume  (which  means  far 
more  here  than  in  most  other  countries)  must  precede 
— or  at  least  be  the  sign  of — any  important  change  in 
their  ideas. 

If  the  Suez  Canal  has  injured  the  commerce  of  Alex- 
andria, as  was  predicted,  the  loss  has  certainly  been 
made  up  in  other  ways,  for  few  cities  of  its  size  show 
greater  evidence  of  present  growth  and  prosperity. 
Mr,  Babbitt,  the  American  Vice  Consul-General, 
informs  me  that  the  trade  with  the  United  States  has 
greatly  increased  within  the  past  year.  It  is  not  a 
place  where  the  tourist  tarries  long — for  the  column 
which  the  Arab  coachmen  call  “ Bombey’s  Billar  ” 


ALEXANDRIA. 


17 


may  be  seen  in  an  hour — but  it  is  really  an  interesting 
frontispiece  to  the  new  civilization  of  Egypt.  The  ho- 
tels have  all  the  European  comforts  except  that  of 
bells,  but  if  H.  R.  H.  was  willing  to  stand  at  his 
chamber  door  and  clap  his  hands  three  times  for  a 
waiter  to  come,  why  should  we  object?  Besides,  you 
may  remember  that  they  did  just  so  in  the  Arabian 
Nights. 

So  many  American  travellers  imagine  March  to  be 
too  late  a month  for  Egypt,  that  I must  inform  them 
we  are  just  comfortable — and  no  more — without  fires. 
The  temperature  is  that  of  a day  in  early  June,  say  70° 
in  the  shade. 


CHAPTER  II. 


FROM  ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  BY  RAIL. 


Cairo,  March  16. 


HE  old  route  from  Alexandria  to  Cairo,  by  steam 


or  rail,  along  the  Mahmoudieh  Canal  to  Atfeh, 
and  up  the  Rosetta  arm  of  the  Nile,  is  a thing  of  the 
past.  Instead  of  twelve  hours  on  the  steamer,  or 
three  to  six  days  on  a dahabiyeh,  the  express  trains 
now  make  the  intervening  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
in  exactly  four  hours  and  a half,  and  carry  the  traveller 
across  the  rich  inland  levels  of  the  Delta,  which  he 
never  saw  in  former  years.  All  authorities,  guide- 
books included,  warn  you  solemnly  against  taking  the 
ordinary  trains,  on  the  ground  that  they  never  obey 
the  time-table  and  may  be  delayed  for  hours  on  the 
way.  For  us.  however,  the  express  was  too  punctual, 
because  too  fast.  I did  not  consider  an  additional 
hour  and  a half  any  too  much  for  an  entirely  new 
route,  and  was  not  particularly  satisfied  when  the  pre- 
dictions proved  false  and  the  train  kept  its  exact 


At  the  Alexandria  station,  a large  dusty  building 
beyond  the  canal,  there  was  certainly,  at  the  start,  an 
atmosphere  of  great  repose  and  indifference.  The 
ticket-seller  at  the  open  window  counted  gold  pieces 


time, 


FROM  ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  B V RAIL.  19 

for  about  five  minutes  before  attending  to  my  demand, 
and  the  officials  in  the  baggage-room  discussed  a va- 
riety of  topics  while  weighing  and  registering  our  two 
small  trunks.  The  first-class  fare  is  a little  less  than  six 
dollars,  which,  with  one  franc  for  baggage,  is  not  an  ex- 
cessive charge.  A dozen  persons  were  gathered  in  the 
shabby  waiting-room,  while  the  native  passengers,  third 
and  fourth-class,  came  forth  as  a large  multitude  from 
their  separate  den.  The  first  and  second-class  cars 
were  made  after  the  English  model,  the  former  with 
comfortable  leather  seats,  but  without  curtains  to  the 
windows.  The  conductor  and  his  subalterns  spoke  Eng- 
lish, with  a smattering  of  French  and  Italian.  Every 
one  connected  with  the  train  seemed  to  be  lounging 
about  the  platform,  moving  slowly,  speaking  gently, 
and  apparently  coveting  an  opportunity  for  a good 
nap.  There  was  no  noise  ; the  locomotive  neither 
whistled  nor  snorted ; only  a bell,  with  a very  lazy 
clapper,  struck  once  or  twice  somewhere,  and,  at  the 
appointed  minute,  the  train  slid  almost  noiselessly  out 
of  the  station.  From  first  to  last,  indeed,  there  was 
less  jarring  and  sound  than  upon  any  other  railway  I 
have  ever  travelled.  The  track,  almost  perfectly  level 
and  with  few  curves,  rests  on  a low  embankment  of 
the  elastic  alluvial  soil,  into  which  the  rails  are  kept 
from  sinking  by  using  broad  iron  saucers  in  place  of 
sleepers. 

For  the  first  twenty-five  miles,  between  Lake  Mare- 
otis  on  the  right  and  the  canal  on  the  left,  there 
is  little  to  be  seen.  Water  and  reeds,  sandy  shores  in 
the  distance,  wild  ducks  and  pelicans,  and  congrega- 


20 


EGYPT. 


tionsof  storks  in  the  nearer  marshes,  appear  on  the  one 
hand  : on  the  other  are  scant  fields  of  wheat  and  bar- 
ley, pastures  where  horses  and  buffaloes  graze,  clumps 
of  tamarisk  or  palm,  and,  bounding  all,  like  a very 
dirty  frame  to  a simple  but  sunny  picture,  the  banks 
of  the  canal,  above  which  you  sometimes  see  the 
curved  and  pointed  top  of  a lateen  sail.  Every  half- 
mile  or  thereabouts,  wherever  there  is  a little  mound 
rising  a few  feet  above  the  inundatable  soil,  you  see 
a Fellah  village,  resembling  a nest  of  mud-wasps 
magnified,  with  lean  chickens  and  children  scratching 
about  in  the  sun,  and  a woman  or  two  carrying  water 
from  the  neighboring  pool. 

The  first  two  stations  were  little  more  than  watering- 
places  for  the  engines ; but  even  there  we  found 
water-carriers  with  their  porous  earthen  jars,  and  ven- 
dors of  oranges  and  sugar-cane  clamoring  for  custom. 
The  names  of  the  places  were  not  called  out ; but  an 
assistant  conductor,  who  scented  backsheesh  in  the 
distance,  and  spoke  a little  English,  privately  an- 
nounced them  to  us.  A native  attendant  with  a large 
dinner-bell  on  his  shoulder,  was  always  on  hand, 
grave  and  responsible,  to  give  the  signal  for  depart- 
ure. Yet,  although  we  halted  every  twelve  miles, 
making  a leisurely  and  friendly  call  in  each  instance, 
our  running  speed  was  between  twenty-five  and  thirty 
miles  an  hour. 

Once  having  rounded  the  eastern  end  of  Lake  Ma- 
reotis,  the  road  turns  to  the  southward,  and  enters  the 
broad,  triangular  region  of  Lower  Egypt.  The  near 
marshes  and  the  distant  ridges  of  sand  are  no  longer 


ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  B Y RAIL. 


21 


seen ; fields  of  cotton,  beans,  wheat,  barley,  and  clo- 
ver stretch  away  to  the  horizon,  intersected  by  canals 
of  irrigation,  whose  courses  may  be  traced  by  their 
borders  of  tamarisk — the  tree  sacred  to  Osiris.  The 
men  and  children  seem  to  be  all  out  of  doors,  plowing 
with  buffalo  teams,  cutting  clover,  watching  the  graz- 
ing animals,  or  squatting  on  their  heels  in  the  sun  and 
doing  nothing.  A fresh,  balmy  smell  of  vegetation 
enters  the  open  windows  as  we  speed  along.  The 
temperature  makes  the  breeze  welcome,  yet  our  wool- 
len garments  are  none  too  warm.  It  is  like  a warm 
spring  without  its  languor,  or  a summer  tempered  by 
high  mountain  air. 

About  forty  miles  from  Alexandria  we  approach  the 
large  town  of  Damanhoor,  the  capital  of  nearly  all 
the  agricultural  region  west  of  the  Nile,  with  which  it 
is  connected  by  a navigable  canal.  Some  hundreds 
of  previous  mud  towns  must  have  crumbled  into  ruin 
and  been  again  built  upon,  to  form  the  mound  upon 
which  the  present  place  is  built.  Its  material,  also,  is 
chiefly  mud;  but  the  lines  of  the  houses,  '‘battering 
in  ” (to  use  the  builder’s  term)  like  the  pylae  of  okl 
temples,  give  them  a certain  stateliness.  It  was  either 
market-day,  or  a fair  was  being  held : thousands  of 
men,  women,  children,  camels,  oxen,  and  asses  filled 
the  open  space  on  the  western  slope  of  the  mound, 
and  crowds  of  the  curiously-inclined  thronged  about 
the  station.  The  Egyptian  passengers  bought  heads 
of  lettuce,  which  they  ate  with  great  relish,  curds,  and 
cakes  of  coarse,  dark  bread.  The  water-jars  were 
also  in  demand  for  the  washing  of  hands ; so  that  the 


22 


EGYPT. 


railway,  thus  far,  seemed  to  have  adapted  itself  to  na- 
tive habits  rather  than  to  have  modified  them.  The 
people  who  came  to  look  at  the  train  were  simply 
idlers,  to  whom  neither  locomotives  nor  Franks  were 
any  longer  an  astonishment:  the  innovation  was  ac- 
cepted as  a part  of  the  Inevitable.  As  a Progressist, 
I ought  to  have  been  disappointed ; but  I am  afraid 
there  was  a feeling  of  satisfaction  at  the  bottom  of  my 
unregenerate  nature,  on  finding  that  the  Oriental  re- 
pose had  not  yet  been  seriously  shaken. 

Our  glimpse  of  the  fair  at  Damanhoor  was  like  a 
tableau  upon  which  the  curtain  falls  before  one  has 
fairly  seen  it.  The  main  country  road,  however,  ran 
side  by  side  with  the  railway  for  ten  or  fifteen  miles 
further,  and  gave  us  the  view  of  an  almost  unbroken 
procession  of  people  on  their  way  to  market.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  varied  and  picturesque.  A Copt 
in  his  black  mantle,  bulged  out  by  the  wind,  as  he  sat 
on  his  donkey  ; a camel  laden  with  sacks  of  grain,  on 
the  top  of  which  was  perched  a coop  full  of  chickens  ; 
a whole  Fellah  family,  partly  on  foot,  the  men  riding, 
the  women  with  bundles  balanced  on  their  heads ; a 
naked  boy,  washing  himself  in  a pool  left  in  the  dry- 
ing canal  ; a peddler  resting  cross-legged  in  the  sun, 
and  as  grave  as  the  Pope  giving  his  benediction  to  the 
world ; an  Egyptian  officer,  prancing  along  on  horse- 
back, with  his  pipe-bearer,  in  white  and  scarlet,  run- 
ning in  advance — these  were  the  chief  figures  in  a 
procession  which  was  strongly  relieved  in  color, 
against  the  deep,  juicy  green  of  the  wheat-fields  or  the 
pale,  pearly  blue  of  the  air.  But  for  these  figures, 


ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  BY  RAIL. 


23 


the  Delta  would  have  resembled  an  Illinois  prairie  as 
much  as  anything. 

At  noon  we  reached  the  Nile,  crossing  it  by  a mag- 
nificent iron  bridge  to  the  town  of  Kafr  ez-Zyat,  where 
the  train  stops  twenty  minutes.  There  is  said  to  be  a 
restaurant  here,  but  it  is  hardly  in  the  station,  and  I 
suspect  few  passengers  patronize  it,  or  a guide  would 
have  been  on  hand.  Lettuce,  stalks  of  sugar-cane  and 
fig  paste  were  abundantly  offered,  also  oranges  grimy 
with  much  handling.  We  were  the  only  Frank  trav- 
ellers, and  undoubtedly  received  less  attention  than  if 
we  had  come  by  the  express.  The  sub-conductor  was 
the  only  person  who  seemed  at  all  interested  in  our 
fortunes,  and  his  purpose  therein  was  evident  from  the 
start.  But  we  had  prudently  brought  a lunch  with  us, 
and  so  enjoyed  the  stop  at  Kafr  ez-Zyat,  which  might 
otherwise  have  been  a disappointment. 

For  eleven  miles  further,  to  Tantah,  the  country  is 
a superb  agricultural  picture.  Every  foot  of  it  yields 
a rich  return,  and  the  soil  does  not  seem  to  require 
more  than  a week’s  rest  between  crops.  Wheat  is  now 
a foot  high,  barley  is  coming  into  head,  horse-beans 
are  in  blossom,  and  the  almond-trees  are  fair  with 
young  leaves.  Looking  toward  the  sun,  the  wide  level 
gleamed  like  a perfect  emerald.  The  dark  brown 
loam,  as  it  was  turned  by  the  plow,  crumbled  with  a 
mellowness  which  would  have  made  an  American 
farmer’s  mouth  water.  With  such  a soil,  and  under 
such  a sky,  the  labor  in  the  fields  seemed  to  be  half 
play.  But  the  Egyptian  Fellah,  with  all  his  capacity 
for  indolence,  is  by  no  means  a lazy  man.  On  the  con- 


24 


EGYPT. 


trary,  he  is  a steady  and  cheerful  worker,  wlienevei 
compelled  by  necessity,  or  directed  by  an  authority 
which  he  respects.  Few  people,  in  proportion  to  their 
means  and  the  development  of  their  rcsouices,  aie  at 
present  so  heavily  taxed,  and  none  bear  their  buidens 
with  equal  patience. 

Tantah  is  a large  and  lively  town,  and  possesses  one 
of  the  forty  or  fifty  palaces  of  the  Khedive.  Othei 
railways  branch  from  it  down  the  Delta;  the  station 
is  spacious  and  unusually  clean,  and  foi  the  first  time 
since  leaving  Alexandria  there  was  a large  accession 
of  passengers.  Many  of  the  recently  built  houses  are 
Italian  in  character,  handsomely  stuccoed  and  painted, 
and  embowered  in  pleasant  gardens.  This  was  all  I 
could  observe  of  a place  which  I hope  to  revisit  and 
describe  more  particularly  before  leaving  Egypt. 

The  further  stretch  of  twenty  miles  before  reaching 
the  Damietta  arm  of  the  Nile  only  repeated  what  we 
had  already  seen.  Once  the  fertile  alluvial  plain  was 
interrupted  by  a sand-island — a low  ridge,  four  or  five 
miles  in  length— which  appeared  to  have  been  blown 
from  the  Eastern  Desert,  in  the  lapse  of  many  centuries, 
to  its  present  position.  Such  islands  are  probably  er- 
ratic in  their  character,  like  those  in  Northern  Ger- 
many, and  might  be  made  stationary  by  the  same 
means — that  is.  covering  them  with  certain  tenacious 
grasses  and  shrubs.  Their  elevation  above  the  plain 
is  so  slight  that  they  might  even  be  irrigated,  and  thus 
lose  their  barrenness.  I saw,  in  fact,  the  beginning 
of  the  latter  process  at  several  points  along  the  road. 

But  for  the  palm-trees  and  the  mud  villages,  this 


25 


ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  BY  RAIL. 

part  of  the  Delta  might  be  compared  to  the  richest 
lowlands  of  England,  in  early  June.  The  deep  colors 
of  the  vegetation  and  the  soft,  changing  hues  of  the 
sky  prevented  it  from  becoming  monotonous  to  the 
eye.  When  we  had  crossed  the  second  Nile  and  passed 
the  flourishing  town  of  Benha,  where  the  railway  sends 
off  a branch  to  Ismailia  and  Suez,  the  country  became 
even  more  densely  populated.  This  region  is  the 
Goshen  of  the  Israelites,  and  one  can  hardly  wonder 
that  many  of  them  sighed  for  its  flesh-pots  while  fol- 
lowing Moses  through  the  bleak  valleys  of  Sinai.  At 
this  point  you  see  two  far  blue  peaks,  rising  above  the 
palms  and  tamarisks  on  the  south-western  horizon, 
and  know  them  to  be  the  Pyramids  by  the  precision 
of  their  outlines. 

It  is  but  twenty  miles  further  to  Cairo,  and  the  land- 
scape becomes  gradually  more  and  more  crowded  with 
life.  On  both  sides,  in  the  distance,  the  bare  yellow 
hills  of  the  Desert  arise  to  enhance,  by  contrast,  the 
luxuriance  of  the  plain  : the  Fellah  villages  disappear, 
and  well-built  country-houses,  with  gardens  of  orange 
and  banana  trees,  take  their  place.  A constant  string 
of  horses,  camels,  and  donkeys  fills  the  main  road  ; 
flocks  of  sheep,  with  heavy  brown  fleeces,  graze  along 
the  bank,  and  the  white  ibises  stand  upright  and  look 
at  the  train  without  fear  as  it  passes.  Here  a little 
portable  steam  engine  is  at  work,  pumping  water  for 
irrigation ; there  a man  is  loosening  large  cubes  of 
rich  soil  from  the  cracked  bottom  of  a dry  canal,  and 
heaping  them  up  for  the  enrichment  of  his  gardens. 
Camels  carry  manure  to  the  fields  in  widebaskets,  and 


26 


EGYPT. 


return  laden  with  bales  of  fresh  lucern.  As  the  Cita- 
del of  Cairo,  with  the  reed-like  minarets  of  Moham- 
med All’s  mosque  comes  in  sight,  we  also  see  the 
smoky  chimneys  of  manufactories,  great  barracks  and 
buildings  on  either  side, — in  short,  a vast,  crowded, 
active  suburb,  where  there  were  only  open  fields  in 
my  memory. 

At  the  station  of  Kalioob,  another  railway  branches 
off  to  the  eastward,  following  the  course  of  the  new 
fresh-water  canal,  which  carries  the  Nile  to  Port  Said 
and  Suez.  It  unites  with  the  road  from  Benha  at  the 
town  of  Zagazig,  and  thus  forms  the  communication 
by  rail  between  Cairo  and  the  Red  Sea.  The  former 
shorter  railway,  directly  across  the  Desert,  has  been 
abandoned. 

On  time,  but  almost  too  soon,  our  train  entered  the 
terminal  station  at  Shoobra.  An  omnibus  from  the 
Hotel  du  Nil  was  in  waiting,  and  its  conductor  car- 
ried us  quietly  through  a raging  sea  of  Arab  porters. 
The  native  passengers,  less  fortunate,  were  seized  and 
tossed  hither  and  thither  ; a hundred  throats  screamed, 
entreated  or  expostulated,  and  two  hundred  hands 
were  hurled  forward  in  menace  or  toward  Heaven  in 
frantic  appeal.  How  long  the  confusion  lasted,  I can- 
not guess.  It  grew  fainter  as  we  drove  away,  without 
appearing  to  grow  less. 

The  broad,  crowded  streets  through  which  we  passed ; 
the  European  architecture,  signs  in  English,  French 
and  Italian  ; the  open  carriages  and  unveiled  ladies — 
were  these  Cairo  ? I could  scarcely  believe  it.  Vainly 
I peered  to  right  and  left,  in  the  hope  of  discovering 


ALEXANDRIA  TO  CAIRO  BY  RAIL. 


27 


some  old  landmark.  There  was  a large,  open,  dusty 
square:  could  it  be  the  shady  Ezbekeeyeh,  the  haunt 
of  native  gossips  and  story-tellers  ? At  last  came  the 
old  street  of  the  Mooskee,  but  crowded  and  muddy  as 
I had  never  seen  it.  Now  the  omnibus  stops : we 
thread  a narrow,  winding  lane  between  high  Oriental 
houses,  and  suddenly  emerge  into  a sunny  garden  of 
palms  and  acacias,  surrounded  by  the  quadrangle  of 
the  hotel.  Here,  in  the  balmy  evening,  as  the  muez- 
zin calls  the  asser  prayer  from  a near  minaret,  no  other 
sound  or  cry  penetrating  from  the  motley  streets,  I feel 
that  I have  reached  Cairo. 


CHAPTER  III. 


A NEW  PICTURE  OF  CAIRO. 

Cairo,  March  20. 

IT  is  not  quite  easy  to  make  the  changes  which 
Cairo  has  undergone  during  the  last  twenty  years 
clear  to  any  one  who  was  not  acquainted  with  the 
extent  and  appearance  of  the  city  at  that  time.  Its 
germ,  or  original  starting  point,  was  the  citadel,  which 
crowns  the  extremity  of  a low  spur  of  the  Mokattam 
Hills,  about  three  miles  from  the  Nile,  and  where  the 
mosque  built  by  Saladin  and  the  well  he  excavated  in 
the  limestone  rock  are  still  in  existence.  The  Sara- 
cenic city  of  the  Middle  Ages  grew  up  around  the 
western  and  southern  base  of  this  fortress,  admitting 
Coptic,  Jewish,  and  Frank  quarters  as  it  spread,  and 
as  commercial  intercourse  with  Europe  brought  prac- 
tical tolerance  to  its  rulers  and  people.  The  western 
suburb  thus  always  represented  the  latest  phase  of 
growth,  and  the  stranger  reached  successively  older 
belts  of  history  as  he  penetrated  eastward  toward  the 
Citadel.  But  even  the  part  added  by  Mohammed  Ali, 
including  the  square  of  the  Ezbekeeyeh,  was  more  Ori- 
ental than  European  in  character.  The  native  Cai- 
renes adopted  it  as  a ground  for  rest  and  gossip,  and 
always  crowded  its  open-air  cafes. 


CAIRO. 


29 


In  1852,  the  houses  on  the  western  side  of  the  Ez- 
oekeeyeh  were  the  end  of  Cairo  in  that  direction. 
Beyond  them  you  entered  the  broad  road,  two  miles 
long,  shaded  with  acacia  and  plane  trees,  which  led  to 
Boulak,  then  a shabby  little  town,  and  chiefly  impor- 
tant as  the  point  of  embarkation  on  the  Nile.  I knew, 
of  course,  that  the  open  space  between  Cairo  and 
Boulak  must  have  been  greatly  encroached  upon  by 
the  growth  of  the  capital ; but  I was  not  prepared  for 
the  astonishing  changes  in  the  physiognomy  of  the 
latter  which  I find,  and  which  seem  to  be  but  the  pre- 
lude to  greater  transformations.  My  first  day  or  two 
here  were  really  quite  bewildering.  I recognized  here 
and  there  an  old  landmark,  but  it  was  torn  away  from 
its  former  adjuncts  or  surroundings.  What  has  been 
added  is  of  a character  so  different  that  it  suggests 
another  land,  another  faith,  other  habits  of  life.  How 
it  will  harmonize  with  what  already  existed — whether, 
indeed,  it  will  veritably  harmonize  for  a long  while  to 
come — are  questions  which  one  need  not  try  to  answer. 
It  was  quite  evident  that  the  present  aspect  of  Egypt  is 
due  to  the  personal  will  of  the  Khedive  rather  than  to 
the  material  development  of  the  country,  and  that  the 
population,  now  patiently  submitting  thereto,  would 
be  equally  ready  to  obey  a reactionary  successor. 

If  the  plan  of  destroying  the  purely  Oriental  charac- 
ter of  Cairo,  and  turning  it  into  a mimic  European 
capital,  were  fully  carried  out,  one  might,  possibly, 
be  more  easily  reconciled  to  the  change;  but  the  city 
Is  just  now  in  that  hideous  period  of  transition  when 
the  Old  is  falling  into  ruin  and  the  New  has  not  filled 


30 


EGYPT. 


its  place.  Outside  of  the  close,  compact,  ancient 
quarters  there  is  a broad  border  of  unsightly  rubbish  ; 
where  it  is  wholly  cleared  away,  blocks  of  new,  rec- 
tangular, utterly  unpicturesque  buildings  have  reached 
the  first  or  second  story — and  in  both  cases  the  result 
is  dust,  stones,  scaffolding,  impediments.  At  least 
four  square  miles  of  the  former  fields  and  gardens  be- 
tween Cairo  and  the  Nile  are  now  laid  out  in  broad 
streets,  raised  high  and  dry  above  inundation  mark, 
rudely  macadamized,  and  lighted  with  gas  lamps. 
Boulak  and  Roda  are  thus  practically  joined  to  the 
city;  squares  and  fountains,  still  lacking  water  and 
trees,  are  placed  at  intervals,  and  a sort  of  aristocratic, 
semi-European  faubourg,  suggesting  France  and  Italy 
at  the  same  time,  is  thus  in  rapid  process  of  creation. 
One  hardly  knows  whether  to  weep  or  rejoice.  The 
houses,  certainly,  are  more  comfortable  homes  than 
Cairo  ever  before  knew;  the  gardens  around  them  are 
a new  and  delightful  feature  ; the  broad,  fiery  streets 
will  eventually  become  avenues  of  shade,  and  free 
currents  of  air  from  every  quarter  will  make  the  city 
a healthy  residence  ; but — it  will  not  be  the  Cairo  of 
the  Caliphs  and  the  Mamelukes. 

The  evening  of  my  arrival  I made  inquiries  for  my 
faithful  dragoman,  Achmet  es-Saidi,  of  whose  death  I 
had  heard,  some  years  ago,  but  whom  I stubbornly  re- 
fused to  believe  dead.  An  instinct  stronger  than  rea- 
son told  me  I should  see  him  again,  and  when  he 
actually  came  and  stood  before  me — a little  grayer  after 
twenty-two  years,  but  as  good  a Moslem,  as  honest  a 
man,  and  as  faithful  a friend  as  ever — I was  surprised 


CAIRO. 


31 


at  the  fulfillment  of  my  own  prediction.  He  has  pros- 
pered, in  the  meantime : he  is  the  owner  of  several 
houses,  and  no  longer  needs  to  accompany  the  Frank 
traveller  on  his  eccentric  pilgrimages,  but  in  all  else 
he  is  unchanged.  I come  back  to  verify  my  old  ex- 
perience of  human  nature : in  Christian  or  Moslem, 
Jew  or  Buddhist,  the  true  man  is  true,  and  the  false 
is  false  : not  the  creed  as  an  abstraction,  but  its  prac- 
tical exemplification  in  life,  is  the  gauge  of  religion. 
Achmet,  and  various  Mohammedan  priests  whom  I 
have  known,  promise  me  free  entrance  into  their 
Heaven ; I,  in  turn,  hope  to  welcome  them  in  mine. 

But  I am  straying  from  the  theme.  Through  my 
old  friend,  I have  been  trying  to  learn  how  the  native 
Cairenes  look  upon  the  innovations  of  the  Khedive, 
the  transformations  going  on  in  their  beloved  city. 
It  is  not  easy  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  truth,  the 
Oriental  is  so  prone  to  accept  without  reflecting.  The 
old  orthodox  Moslem  element,  I suspect,  is  discon- 
tented and  perhaps  scandalized  ; the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple, fond  of  show,  of  the  display  of  wealth  and  the 
indirect  largesse  which  accompanies  it,  are  diverted 
for  the  present,  and  therefore  satisfied.  The  Future 
is  an  unknown  factor  in  the  calculation  of  the  latter 
class.  They  will  cheerfully  loaf  all  day  in  the  sun  if 
but  a single  farthing  is  left  them  for  supper.  It  really 
seems  as  if  the  donkey-boys  and  others  who  prey  upon 
travellers  conceive  their  business  as  a lottery,  for  they 
will  refuse  the  offers  in  the  morning,  which,  after 
lost  hours  of  idleness,  they  accept  in  the  afternoon. 

Our  hotel,  in  the  old  Frank  quarter,  a little  way  off 


32 


EGYPT. 


the  Mooskee,  lies  within  the  undisturbed  region.  If  I 
turn  to  the  right  on  issuing  from  it,  I presently  come 
into  the  ancient  bazars,  sweet  with  smothered  scents 
of  aloes  and  sandal-wood,  shaded,  stately  with  grave 
merchants,  and  offering  pictures  which  recall  the 
Arabian  Nights  at  every  turn.  There  are  still  carved 
Saracenic  portals,  cool,  mysterious  courts,  arcades 
where  the  grave  tailors  or  jewelers  ply  their  trade, 
sunny  glimpses  of  mosques  and  fountains,  and  the 
usual  procession  of  veiled  women,  eunuchs,  ebony 
slaves  from  Dar-Fur,  and  the  Faithful  of  the  East  and 
West.  Turn  to  the  left,  however,  and  in  a few  min- 
utes you  reach  a dusty  square  where  Ibrahim  Pasha — 
the  Lion  of  Egypt — checks  his  horse  in  bronze  and 
stretches  his  bronze  arm  toward  the  modern  quarters 
of  the  city.  “O,  Egyptian!”  I said  to  a native; 
“ what  do  the  people  think  of  this  ? ” '*  O,  stranger  ! ” 
he  answered,  “they  ought  to  think  it  a great  sin.” 
But  the  multitude,  I suspect,  doesn’t  think  at  all,  or 
there  would  be  fewer  photographs  of  the  natives  dis- 
played in  the  shop-windows.  The  aim  of  Mohammed 
in  prohibiting  the  representation  of  a human  being, 
was  simply  to  prevent  a lapse  into  idolatry;  hence  a 
statue,  left  to  itself,  without  religious  honors,  soon 
ceases  to  alarm  the  people’s  faith. 

The  Ezbekeeyeh,  I insist,  has  been  ruined.  In 
place  of  the  old  haunt  of  shade  and  Latakia  smoke, 
with  its  quadrangular  canal  for  the  inundation,  you 
have  now  a much  larger  park,  which  resembles  a beg- 
garly section  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  There  are  in 
it  a curving  pond,  a bridge,  several  kiosks,  plots  of 


CAIRO. 


33 


unhappy  turf  which  pine  and  languish  from  the  very 
efforts  to  make  them  grow,  and  clumps  of  trees  and 
shrubbery  which  seem  intended  to  suggest  a cooler 
climate  and  miserably  fail.  I noticed  no  palms;  they 
are  probably  too  Egyptian.  It  must  be  a great  ex- 
pense to  keep  up  this  exotic  park,  and,  if  successful, 
it  will  be  just  what  the  uncorrupted  traveller  does  not 
wish  to  see.  The  palace  built  for  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
the  Opera  House,  and  the  New  Hotel  (owned  by  the 
Khedive)  front  on  this  square,  and,  on  such  a miser- 
ably cold,  rainy  day  as  we  had  on  Wednesday,  one 
might  have  fancied  oneself  in  Haussman’s  Paris.  To- 
day, when  the  sun  of  Egypt  returns  to  warm  us,  when 
thousands  of  palms  rock  in  the  gentle  breeze,  and  a 
warmer  color  touches  the  hills  of  the  Desert,  the 
whole  scene  is  painfully  incongruous — -almost  absurd. 

Some  of  the  newer  blocks  have  spacious  arcades, 
like  Turin  or  Bologna, — an  arrangement  admirably 
adapted  to  the  climate,  and  certainly  better  than  the 
covered  bazars  of  the  old  city.  I do  not  know  how  far 
this  feature  is  to  be  applied,  for  there  are  vast  spaces 
where  you  see  only  demolition  and  not  reconstruction. 
The  new  streets  beyond  the  great  square  are  lined 
with  private  dwellings  and  gardens,  and  will  be  well 
shaded  in  the  course  of  time.  An  adequate  supply  of 
water  is  the  first  necessity.  This  can  easily  be  ob- 
tained by  an  aqueduct  tapping  the  Nile  twenty  or 
thirty  miles  above  Cairo.  At  present,  most  of  the  in- 
habitants must  buy  their  supply,  and  I saw  the  poor 
people,  yesterday,  filling  their  jars  from  the  dirty  pud- 
dles in  the  street.  Four  or  five  Government  fountains 


34 


EGYPT. 


send  up  a spray  which  is  delightful  to  behold,  but 
that  is  a luxury,  and  not  to  be  used  by  the  public. 

Leaving  out  of  sight  the  Romantic — that  which  ap- 
peals to  an  established  sentiment,  to  old  associations, 
or  to  a passion  for  the  picturesque  in  form  and  color — 
what  is  the  effect  of  a growth  which  is  not  even  a graft 
on  the  old  stock,  but  a foreign  plant,  artificially  (as  it 
seems)  nourished,  and  chiefly  by  a single  personal 
will  ? I am  hardly  able  to  answ-er  the  question,  as  yet. 
To  do  so  justly,  requires  a better  know  ledge  of  the  ideas 
and  feelings  of  the  native  Cairenes  than  I have  yet  ac- 
quired. They  seem  unchanged : if  there  is  more 
natural  patience  with  the  new'  element  which  partly 
controls  them,  more  fraternal  tolerance,  release  from 
old  traditions  and  superstitions,  it  is  hardly  manifested 
in  a positive  form.  I found  them  formerly,  as  now-, 
friendly,  social,  transparent  in  their  cunning,  easily 
checked  and  controlled,  harsh  masters  and  patient 
servants.  The  Frank,  of  course,  is  secure  against 
active  discourtesy,  and  the  prejudice  from  which  it 
might  spring  is  probably  slowly  wearing  aw’ay. 

It  is  difficult  to  disentangle  the  imaginary  and  the 
real,  in  one’s  memory.  Perhaps  if  the  old  Cairo 
which  I knew  were  now  suddenly  restored,  I should 
like  it  less  than  what  I find.  A railway  from  Alexan- 
dria ; a bridge  over  the  Nile  ; a carriage  road  to  the 
Pyramids  and  Heliopolis  ; a telegraph,  a daily  paper, 
an  opera,  Christian  churches, — these  are  changes  not 
to  be  rejected  or  undervalued.  No  doubt,  also,  wThen 
the  work  of  pulling  down  and  rebuilding — which  is 
always  hideous — shall  have  been  completed,  the  result 


CAIRO. 


35 


will  be  far  more  satisfactory  than  the  present  stage  of 
transition.  I am  amazed  at  the  growth  of  Cairo,  yet 
cannot  fully  enjoy  its  character. 

As  if  to  make  the  change  more  emphatic,  the  win- 
try weather  we  tried  to  escape  by  leaving  Italy  has 
followed  us  even  here.  After  a sharp  north  wind  on 
Tuesday,  Wednesday  came  with  cloud  and  a chilly 
rain  (thermometer  at  45°)  which  lasted  all  day,  and 
obliged  us,  since  fire-places  are  unknown,  to  sit  in 
cloaks,  with  doors  and  windows  closed.  The  Mooskee 
was  knee-deep  in  mud  this  morning,  and  the  streets 
of  Boulak  were  a succession  of  pools.  March  is  usual- 
ly the  most  delightful  month  of  the  year,  in  Egypt ; 
but  now,  when  Constantinople  is  snowed  up,  and 
people  freeze  to  death  on  Chios,  we  must  needs  shiver 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  How  far  the  present  un- 
usual amount  of  rain  here  is  attributable  to  the  open- 
ing of  the  Suez  Canal,  the  increased  area  of  agricul- 
ture, and  the  planting  of  trees  in  the  Delta,  is  a ques- 
tion which  it  would  be  premature  to  discuss.  One  can 
hardly  draw  conclusions  on  a less  basis  than  the  aver- 
age of  ten  years. 

The  expense  of  living,  in  Alexandria  and  Cairo,  has 
increased  about  fifty  per  cent,  since  1852 ; but  the  ex- 
pense of  a voyage  up  the  Nile  is  from  two  to  three  times 
as  much  as  then.  A large  dahabeeyeh,  then  costing  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  month,  now  commands 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars— which,  considering 
that  the  value  of  the  boat  is  about  three  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars,  is  enormously  exorbitant.  Luxurious 
travellers  are  chiefly  to  blame  for  this  state  of  things, 


36 


EGYPT. 


and  I imagine  that  the  Stars  and  Stripes  cover  quite 
as  much  reckless  ostentation  as  any  other  flag.  The 
steamers  take  parties  of  twenty  or  thirty  at  forty-six 
pounds  apiece,  to  the  First  Cataract  and  back  in  three 
weeks.  These  parties  generally  return  in  a state  of 
violent  contention,  even  (in  one  case,  this  Winter) 
with  pending  duels,  which  is  rather  a dismal  view  of 
human  nature  to  one  who  has  seen  Abydos  and  Kar- 
nak. 

I have  given,  thus  far,  only  my  first  rapid  impressions, 
reserving  the  right  to  change  them  as  further  expe- 
rience may  require.  I do  not  and  cannot  believe  that 
development  is  loss — certainly  not  where  it  strikes 
deep  roots  into  the  nature  of  a race  and  feeds  it  with 
new  sustenance.  But  the  Orientals  draw  comfort  and 
strength  from  other  sources  than  we  do,  and  one  must 
learn  what  thoughts  are  hidden  under  their  grave 
faces  before  deciding  finally  how  they  are  affected  by 
the  grand  movements  of  our  age. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SIGHTS  IN  AND  AROUND  CAIRO. 

Cairo,  March  23,  1874. 

T MUST  begin  with  the  weather — a theme  unknown 
to  Egyptian  conversation,  unless  it  happens  to  be 
very  extraordinary,  as  now.  You  cannot  say,  “What 
a fine  day  ! ” in  a country  where  all  normal  days  are 
fine ; nor  exchange  predictions  when  to-morrow,  and 
next  week,  and  next  month,  are  known  in  advance  by 
everybody.  Egypt  has  heretofore  been  a certain 
refuge  to  all  who  are  weary  of  our  endless  meteoro- 
logical small-talk ; but  I begin  to  doubt  whether  it 
will  continue  to  remain  so.  The  Mexicans  have  al- 
ways said  that  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  changes  the  cli- 
mate wherever  it  settles.  So,  here,  it  almost  seems 
as  if  the  increase  of  the  Frank  element  and  the  intro- 
duction of  Frank  civilization  have  given  lawlessness 
and  change  to  an  atmosphere  which  once  was  calm 
as  the  Sphinx  and  steady  as  the  Pyramids. 

For  two  days  past  the  thermometer  has  fallen  to  44° 
in  the  mornings.  Day  before  yesterday  it  snowed  at 
Suez,  and  a passenger  just  arrived  from  India  says 
that  the  voyage  up  the  Red  Sea,  hitherto  known  as  a 
very  horror  of  heat,  was  painfully  cold  ! We  have 


33 


EGYPT. 


tried  in  vain  to  get  even  an  Arab  mangal,  or  brazier 
of  coals  ; but  the  hotel  has  none  to  offer.  So  we  put 
on  shawls  and  overcoats  through  the  day,  and  go  to 
bed  early  that  warmth  may  come  back  under  double 
blankets.  " ’Tis  the  clime  of  the  East,  ’tis  the  land  of 
the  sun  ! ” Turn  over  your  Byron,  and  when  found  make 
note  of.  Toward  evening  there  is  a heavy  shower  or 
two,  and  last  night  it  rained  again  furiously.  The 
old,  unpaved  streets  thus  become  almost  impassable 
from  mud,  and  the  authorities  have  invented  no  better 
plan  than  to  collect  and  carry  it  away  in  carts.  The 
consequence  is  that  the  level  of  the  streets  is  rapidly 
sinking,  and  in  a few  years  more  the  merchants  will 
sit  on  high  banks  while  their  customers  stand  below 
and  bargain.  His  Highness,  the  Khedive,  it  appears, 
being  engaged  in  erecting  several  new  palaces  in  ad- 
dition to  the  thirty  or  forty  he  already  possesses,  has 
no  money  to  spare  for  the  cleansing  and  paving  of 
Cairo.  It  is  a sad  condition,  and  one  which  claims 
our  deepest  sympathies. 

For  the  past  two  or  three  days  I have  been  learning 
Cairo  over  again,  and  the  first  confusion  resolves  itself 
into  tolerably  definite  bounds.  A line  drawn  north 
and  south  at  the  entrance  of  the  Mooskee,  the  ancient 
Frank  street,  separates  what  is  left  of  the  old  city 
from  the  modern  squares  and  avenues  in  the  west. 
The  latter  are  thus  embraced  in  an  irregular  quad- 
rangle, extending  to  the  Nile  at  the  former  towns  of 
Boulak  and  Roda.  The  first  impression  made  upon 
the  stranger  is  thus  the  worst ; for  the  chief  hotels  are 
near  the  line  of  demolition  and  incomplete  restoration 


SIGHTS  IN  AND  AROUND  CAIRO. 


39 


which  separates  the  two  portions  of  the  capital.  Here, 
acres  of  old  Saracenic  houses  are  being  levelled  to  the 
ground,  or  have  left  gaps  of  stone  and  dust  behind 
them;  blocks  of  growing  buildings  are  unsightly  with 
scaffolding  and  heaps  of  prepared  material;  old  trees 
are  cut  away,  new  ones  are  making  efforts  to  grow, 
and  sun,  wind,  and  dust  alternately  assail  you.  Two, 
three,  or  at  the  utmost  five  years,  may  see  these  gaps 
closed,  the  streets  roofed  with  shade,  the  new  gardens 
filled  with  bowery  foliage,  and  the  transition  thereby 
relieved  of  its  present  disagreeable  features.  When 
that  much  is  accomplished,  Cairo  may  be  more  at- 
tractive than  ever. 

The  old  streets  seem  crowded  with  life  as  never  be- 
fore ; but  here,  as  in  Alexandria,  I notice  no  change 
of  any  consequence  in  the  appearance  or  habits  of  the 
Moslem  population.  The  Cairenes  were  always  more 
tolerant  of  the  Franks  than  the  Syrian  Arabs  or  the 
Turks  at  Constantinople  ; but  now,  when  one  wears 
a fez  and  speaks  a little  Arabic,  they  cannot  be  sure 
he  is  not  in  the  Pasha’s  service,  and  are  courteous  as 
a matter  of  policy.  The  ugly  women  still  go  closely 
veiled,  while  the  young  and  beautiful  seem  inclined 
to  adopt  the  Turkish  costume  of  wearing  a thin  white 
gauze,  which  keeps  up  the  Oriental  proprieties,  while 
allowing  them  to  enjoy  the  new  luxury  of  admiration. 
I have  seen  numbers  of  Pashas’  wives  and  Odalisques 
— Turkish  or  Circassian  women — riding  out  in  their 
carriages,  with  their  lustrous  eyes  and  tints  of  milk 
and  roses  scarcely  dimmed  to  the  public  eye.  Some 
of  them  were  exquisitely  beautiful. 


40 


EGYPT. 


Another  evidence  of  a change  in  the  ideas  of  the 
governing  class  maybe  found  in  the  character  of  their 
dwellings.  The  curiously  latticed  balconies  of  carved 
wood,  behind  which  the  women  were  wont  to  sit 
unseen,  are  no  longer  constructed  ; the  many  windows 
of  the  new  Italian  houses  have  no  more  formidable 
guard  than  ordinary  Venetian  blinds.  In  place  of  high 
stone  walls  around  the  gardens,  there  are  frequently 
iron  railings ; even  little  ornamental  statues  are  be- 
ginning to  creep  in  among  the  flowers.  I am  not  able 
to  say  how  far  the  daughters  of  the  higher  class  are 
educated,  but  since  many  of  them  are  now  able  to  read 
and  speak  French,  and  are  allowed  to  associate  famil- 
iarly with  European  ladies,  they  must  gradually  be- 
come discontented  with  the  jealous  surveillance  of  the 
Orient.  It  will  be  a long  time,  however,  before  any 
reform  of  this  kind  strikes  down  among  the  lower 
orders  of  the  people. 

I have  almost  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  is 
no  more  cheerful  and  patient  race  in  the  world  than 
the  Egyptian  Moslem.  My  remembrance  of  their  na- 
ture, in  this  respect,  is  more  than  confirmed  on  seeing 
them  again.  The  classes  who  make  their  living  out 
of  strangers  are  on  the  watch  for  a good  bargain,  of 
course,  but  they  are  easily  manageable,  and  much  less 
apt  to  violate  an  agreement  than  the  Italians.  Even 
the  country  children,  with  their  incessant  cry  of 
"backsheesh ! ” their  laughing  eyes  and  cheerful  ac- 
ceptance of  a refusal,  contrast  pleasantly  with  the  in- 
cessant whine  and  the  “ per  amore  di  Dio!"  which 
one  hears  in  Rome  and  Naples.  I have  spoken  to 


SIGHTS  IN  AND  AROUND  CAIRO. 


41 


numbers  of  Fellahs  or  tradesmen  in  the  streets,  and 
always  received  a courteous  and  frank  answer.  If  one 
of  the  natives  happens  to  be  rude  in  a crowd,  he  is 
generally  reproved  by  the  bystanders.  Even  sudden 
quarrels  among  the  people  are  settled  without  malice, 
and  you  often  see  two  good  friends  who,  fifteen  min- 
utes before,  were  pummeling  each  other.  It  is  the 
worst  possible  policy  for  a traveller  to  lose  his  temper 
here;  a firm  but  cheerful  bearing  will  carry  him 
through  all  straits. 

I have  found  one  thing  quite  unchanged— the  old 
avenue  of  Indian  sycamores  and  acacias  leading  to  the 
palace  and  gardens  of  Shoobra.  That  is,  the  trees 
themselves  remain,  with  their  gnarled  and  twisted 
gray  trunks,  their  immense  snaky  arms,  and  their  un- 
interrupted arch  of  shade,  forming  a vista  five  miles 
long;  but  villas  and  gardens  on  either  side  have  crept 
far  out  over  the  former  fields,  and  the  broad  stretches 
of  harvest  land  across  which  you  once  saw  the  Pyra- 
mids and  the  Mokattam  hills,  have  shrunk  into  scat- 
tered patches,  destined  also  to  disappear  in  the  course 
of  time.  This  road  is  still  the  favorite  drive  of  an 
afternoon,  and  nothing  can  be  more  picturesque  than 
its  mixture  of  camels  and  carriages,  dandies  and  don- 
keys, chignons  and  henna  stains,  stove-pipes  and 
white  turbans,  salaam-aleikooms  and  ravi-de-voiis- 
voirs. 

The  magnificence  of  Shoobra  is  quite  gone,  how- 
ever. The  pool  in  the  Kiosk  of  Fountains  is  full  of 
water-weeds  ; the  menagerie  of  African  animals  has 
been  transferred  to  Gezeereh,  across  the  Nile;  the 


42 


EGYPT. 


ridiculous  miniature  hill,  with  its  pine-trees,  looks  dis- 
mally dilapidated,  and  the  garden  has  become  an  or- 
dinary orchard  of  orange,  almond,  and  peach-trees. 
We  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  enter  the  palace 
to  see  a lot  of  French  furniture,  so  inferior,  both  in 
color  and  design,  to  the  upholstery  of  Persia  or  Bag- 
dad. The  gardener  presented  the  ladies  with  bouquets, 
in  which  only  the  gilly-flower  was  fragrant ; to  me  he 
gave  a button-hole  rosebud,  which  grew  only  the 
sweeter  as  it  withered. 

A day  or  two  ago,  on  passing  the  grand  old  mosque 
of  Sultan  Hassan,  we  stopped  and  entered  unchal- 
lenged. There  is  something  very  simple  and  noble 
in  the  interior.  A bright-eyed  little  girl,  who  gave 
her  name  as  Zaida,  brought  us  slippers  of  matting,  to 
wear  over  our  shoes  ; a very  meek  attendant  accom- 
panied us;  another  lingered  beside  the  mimbar,  or 
pulpit,  but  no  others  of  the  faithful  were  present  to 
be  shocked  by  our  entrance — if,  indeed,  such  an  occur- 
rence shocks  them  at  all  now.  But  the  coolness  and 
stillness  of  the  grand  inner  court,  with  its  four  open 
semi-domes  on  the  sides,  its  central  roof  of  sky,  and 
its  large  fountain  for  ablutions,  impressed  us  with 
greater  solemnity  than  many  an  emblazoned  Chris- 
tian cathedral.  The  perfect  simplicity  and  sincerity 
of  Moslem  worship  appeals  to  the  Quaker  element  in 
my  own  blood ; so,  when  I enter  a mosque,  the  signs 
of  race  and  climate  and  the  symbolism  of  faith  fade 
away,  and  I only  remember  that  we  are  fellow-believ- 
ers in  the  One  God. 

Side  by  side  with  the  pile  of  Sultan  Hassan — the 


) 


SIGHTS  IN  AND  AROUND  CAIRO. 


43 


walls  of  which  are  beginning  to  crack  dangerously — 
the  Khedive  is  building  a magnificent  mosque  of 
equal  proportions,  to  bear  the  name  of  his  mother.  It 
is  hardly  yet  sufficiently  advanced  to  enable  one  to 
judge  of  its  architectural  style  ; but  I venture  to  say 
that  it  will  embody  the  Saracenic  fancies  of  a Euro- 
pean architect,  and  be  about  as  truly  Saracenic  as  the 
Church  of  the  Madeleine  is  Greek.  Many  persons, 
however,  will  never  detect  the  difference.  Here,  all 
around  the  base  of  the  Citadel,  there  is  tearing  down 
and  building  up,  with  the  usual  rubbish  and  whirling 
dust. 

It  was  a relief  to  ride  out  the  Abbasiyeh  Gate,  pass 
the  deserted  cemetery  under  the  walls,  and  issue  upon 
the  brown,  dry  plain,  where  stand  the  Tombs  of  the 
Caliphs.  Here  the  lonely  domes,  rippled  with  pat- 
terns of  ornament  like  so  many  drifts  of  desert  sand, 
the  exquisitely  varied  forms  of  the  minarets,  the  empty 
courts  and  falling  arcades  have  only  the  arid  hills  for 
a background.  A reach  of  the  Nile  valley  shimmers 
in  the  distance  like  a dark-green  lake.  Strings  of 
melancholy  camels  pass,  from  time  to  time,  and  the 
cries  of  their  drivers  sound  almost  like  those  of  wild 
birds  in  the  distance.  Here  the  imagination  is  pow- 
erfully stirred,  and  the  vanishing  Orient  becomes  real 
again. 


CHAPTER  V. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  PYRAMIDS, 


Cairo,  March  25,  1874. 


ESTERDAY  1 decided  that  the  weather  had  fin- 


ally settled  fair,  and  we  might  venture  as  far  as 
the  Pyramids  without  encountering  either  rain  or  cold 
wind.  Yet  it  was  a day  which  would  have  deceived 
any  one  unfamiliar  with  the  phenomena  of  the  Egypt- 
ian climate.  The  sky  was  overcast,  rather  with  a soft, 
ashen-colored  fleecy  vapor  than  with  clouds;  the 
wind  blew  lightly  from  the  south,  leaving  a heavy, 
sultry  feeling  when  it  paused,  and  I was  hardly  sur- 
prised when  an  English  tourist  predicted  “a  fearful 
storm,  presently.”  When  I answered  “ a storm  is 
impossible  to-day,”  he  looked  at  me  with  an  air  of 
pitying  incredulity,  and  then  turned  away.  We  en- 
gaged an  open  carriage  at  twenty  francs  for  the  day, 
provided  ourselves  with  lunch,  and  set  out  at  nine 
o’clock.  Just  above  Boulak  the  Nile  is  now  spanned 
by  a splendid  iron  bridge,  beyond  which  abroad  high- 
way has  been  built,  leading  to  the  very  base  of  the 
Great  Pyramid.  This  is  certainly  better  than  the 
former  approach  by  ferry-boat  and  donkey-path,  for  it 
reduces  the  practical  distance  from  three  or  four  hours 
to  one  and  a half. 

The  way  was  crowded  with  camels  and  country 


A TRIP  TO  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


45 


people,  the  former  bearing  huge  but  not  very  heavy 
burdens  of  freshly-cut  clover.  Women  and  donkeys 
bore  loads  of  vegetables,  and  the  boys  trotted,  yelling, 
after  them.  Our  dark  footman,  in  his  white  cap  and 
shirt,  ran  in  advance  of  the  carriage,  parting  the  mul- 
titude to  right  and  left  with  his  long  stick,  and  crying 
out : “ Take  care,  there  ! Take  care  of  your  legs  ! the 
strangers  are  coming  ! ” Thus  we  passed  over  the 
bridge,  entered  the  avenue  of  acacias  leading  to  Gizeh, 
and  saw  the  Pyramids,  flushed  with  a faint  rose-color, 
against  the  sky.  The  west  bank  of  the  Nile,  Gezee- 
reh,  was  formerly  an  island,  as  its  name  indicates,  and 
will  soon  be  one  again.  The  shallow  channel  having 
been  allowed  to  fill  up,  or  being  purposely  dammed, 
the  river  became  so  much  stronger  in  its  current  that 
the  Boulak  shore  is  partially  eaten  away,  and  the  island 
must  needs  be  restored.  We  presently  reached  the 
track  of  the  railway  to  Upper  Egypt,  which  now  starts 
from  Embabeh,  on  the  western  bank,  but  will  soon  be 
run  in  connection  with  an  early  train  from  Alexandria, 
so  that  travellers  can  leave  the  Mediterranean  in  the 
morning  and  almost  reach  Siout,  the  capital  of  Upper 
Egypt,  in  the  evening.  Looking  southward  over  the 
wheat  fields,  the  immense  fronts  of  two  unfinished  pal- 
aces meet  the  eye:  I should  take  each  of  them  to  be  as 
large  as  Buckingham  Palace,  in  London.  The  Khe- 
dive is  building  them  for  his  two  sons.  And  taxes  are 
high  in  Egypt,  and  money  is  scarce,  and  half  of  Mari- 
ette’s  inestimable  collection  of  antiquities  is  stowed 
away  in  dark  magazines  for  want  of  room  to  show 
them. 


46 


EGYPT. 


The  carriage-road  is  raised  about  twelve  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  soil,  in  order  to  be  dry  during  the  sea- 
son of  inundation.  The  acacias  with  which  it  is 
planted  seem  to  grow  with  difficulty,  and  just  'now 
many  of  them  are  being  removed  and  replaced  with 
trunks  a foot  or  two  in  diameter.  They  need  expens- 
ive watering,  however,  until  the  roots  are  long  enough 
to  reach  the  permanent  moisture  ot  the  lower  soil. 
Even  the  huge  old  trees  on  the  way  to  Shoobra  seem 
to  require  an  occasional  drink,  in  dry  seasons. 

Nothing  could  be  lovelier  than  the  intensely  green 
wheat  lands,  stretching  away  to  the  Libyan  Desert, 
bounded  on  the  south  by  thick  fringes  of  palm.  The 
wind  blowing  over  them  came  to  us  sweet  with  the 
odor  of  white  clover  blossoms  : larks  sang  in  the  air, 
snowy  ibises  stood  pensively  on-  the  edges  of  sparkling 
pools,  and  here  and  there  a boy  sang  some  shrill, 
monotonous  Arab  song.  In  the  east,  the  citadel- 
mosque  stretched  its  two  minarets  like  taper  fingers 
averting  the  evil  eye ; and  in  front  of  us  the  Pyra- 
mids seemed  to  mock  all  the  later  pow'er  of  the  world. 
Not  forty,  but  sixty  centuries  look  down  upon  us  from 
those  changeless  peaks.  They  antedate  all  other  hu- 
man records,  except  those  of  the  dynasty  immediately 
preceding  that  which  built  them.  Hebrew,  Sanskrit, 
and  Chinese  annals  seem  half  modern  when  one  stands 
at  the  foot  of  piles  which  were  almost  as  old  as  the 
Coliseum  is  now  when  Abraham  was  born. 

We  crossed  the  track  of  the  railway,  drove  beside  it 
for  a mile  or  two  further,  and  then  struck  directly 
across  the  level  lands  toward  that  rocky  terrace  of  the 


A TRIP  TO  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


47 


Libyan  Desert,  which  serves  as  a base  for  the  Pyra- 
mids. Children  ran  beside  the  carriage  clamoring  for 
money,  and  one  or  two  boys,  laboring  under  the  sin- 
gular delusion  that  they  were  contributing  to  our 
pleasure,  played  the  reed  flute  after  a most  weary  and 
distressing  fashion.  But  there  was  less  annoyance 
from  these  causes  than  you  generally  meet  in  Italy,  or 
even  some  parts  of  Switzerland. 

Nearer  the  Desert,  there  were  belts  of  drifted  sand 
across  the  road,  and  the  wheat  and  clover,  after  strug- 
gling briefly  with  their  ancient  enemy,  ceased  on 
either  side.  It  was  so  difficult  for  the  horses  to  climb 
the  last  slope  that  we  dismounted  and  walked  to  the 
northern  base  of  the  Great  Pyramid,  on  the  top  of 
which  a little  flag  was  fluttering,  and  two  or  three 
dark  forms  were  perceptible.  The  modern  house, 
built  by  the  Khedive  for  the  reception  of  his  royal 
and  imperial  guests,  offers  to  all  visitors  the  advantage 
of  shade  and  cold  steps  to  sit  on.  A crowd  of  Fellahs 
was  in  attendance,  eager  to  help  us  up  and  down,  to 
climb  both  Pyramids  in  ten  minutes,  or  to  sell  us 
modern  scarabcei.  They  are  now,  however,  a much 
better  behaved  race  than  formerly.  Nearly  all  of 
them  have  a fair  smattering  of  English,  their  demands 
are  regulated  by  custom,  and  if  the  traveller  chooses 
one  as  an  inevitable  guide  and  protector,  he  escapes 
much  annoyance  from  the  others. 

I had  no  desire  to  make  the  ascent  a second  time, 
although  it  was  well  worth  doing  once.  A crawl  into 
the  hot  and  stifling  interior-can  only  be  recommended 
to  the  archaeologist.  The  grand,  simple  masses,  built 


48 


EGYPT. 


by  Cheops  and  Cephrenes,  satisfy  both  the  eye  and 
the  imagination  when  viewed  from  below,  a few  hun- 
dred yards  from  their  bases.  The  best  point,  I think, 
is  a sandy  mound  beyond  the  Sphinx,  whence  you  get 
the  exact  view  given  in  one  of  Carl  Werner’s  wonder- 
ful aquarelles. 

I found  the  Sphinx  buried  under  ten  or  fifteen  feet 
more  of  sand  than  when  I saw  him  last.  The  face  was 
evidently  intended  to  be  seen  from  below,  for  its  ex- 
pression becomes  almost  grotesque  when  the  spectator 
is  brought  so  near  its  level.  About  eight  years  ago 
M.  Mariette  discovered  a very  ancient  temple  just  be- 
yond it,  and  this,  although  lying  wholly  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  desert,  has  been  kept  tolerably  clear  of  the 
drifting  sand.  I have  seen  nothing  in  Egypt  which 
seems  so  old  as  this  temple.  It  is  built  mainly  of 
rose-colored  granite,  the  pillars  simply  square  mono- 
liths, roofs  and  doorways  of  the  same,  and  no  sign 
of  inscriptions  or  decorative  sculptures.  It  is  certain- 
ly older — and  who  shall  say  how  much  older  ? — than 
the  Pyramids.  In  some  sepulchral  chambers  lying 
back  of  the  pillared  court,  the  roof  is  made  of  huge 
blocks  of  alabaster.  The  whole  edifice,  in  its  bare  and 
massive  simplicity,  suggests  Stonehenge  rather  than 
the  later  architecture  of  Egypt. 

A small  fee  opened  for  us  one  of  the  lower  rooms  of 
the  Khedive’s  house,  and  we  lunched  in  coolness  and 
quiet.  One  of  the  native  hangers-on,  after  looking  at 
me  for  some  time,  said : 

" You  were  here  a long  while  ago?  ” 

“ Yes,”  I answered. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


49 


“ Twenty  years,  or  more  ? ” 

“Yes  ” 

“ And  there  was  a gentleman  with  you — a Nemizo- 
wee  (German),  I think?” 

“ Yes.” 

“And  you  had  trouble  with  the  men  who  went  up 
the  Pyramid?  You  went  to  yonder  village  (pointing 
towards  it),  called  the  sheikh,  and  had  the  men  pun- 
ished ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“And  there  was  a boy  who  carried  a water  bottle; 
and  the  sheikh  of  the  village  told  him  to  bring  coffee 
for  you;  and  there  was  no  coffee,  at  first;  and  the 
shekh  gave  the  boy  a slap,  threw  him  out  the  door, 
and  told  him  not  to  come  again  until  he  brought 
it?” 

“ Yes: — -well  ? ” 

“ I was  that  boy.” 

I questioned  Achmet  to  know  whether  he  had  told 
the  story  of  my  first  visit  with  its  serio-comic  interlude ; 
but  he  had  not.  The  man’s  astonishing  memory, 
after  so  many  years  of  tourists,  had  recognized  me  and 
reproduced  the  incident  with  all  its  minor  details. 

By  this  time,  several  other  carriages  had  arrived 
from  Cairo.  Parties  v'ere  lunching  on  the  cold  steps, 
bargaining  for  modern  scarabcei,  strolling  towards  the 
Sphinx  with  a crowd  of  Arabs  at  their  heels,  or  climb- 
ing the  steps  of  the  Great  Pyramid  with  many  an  awk- 
ward straddle,  shoved  from  below  and  pulled  up  from 
above.  There  were  tweed  coats,  eye-glasses,  canes, 
chignons,  fans,  parasols — but  let  not  the  romantic 


5« 


EGYPT. 


reader  suppose  that  the  sublime  repose  of  the  old 
Egyptian  world  was  in  the  least  prejudiced  by  these 
objects.  They  were  but  as  drift-wood  or  sea-weed, 
surging  around  the  base  of  mightier  natural  pyramids, 
along  the  shores  of  Norway  or  Maine.  One  is  carried 
so  far  back — set  in  the  presence  of  such  imperious  hu- 
man will  and  unhindered  power — that  the  real  and  far 
more  permanent  greatness  of  our  age  fades  away,  and 
its  careless  representatives  become,  for  the  time,  mere 
stingless  insects,  that  hum  and  buzz  for  a few  minutes, 
to  be  carried  away  by  the  next  breeze.  No ! — you 
might  pack  billiard-rooms,  lager-beer  saloons,  cafes 
chanianis , stock-brokers’  offices,  and  Free-Trade 
Leagues,  around  the  pyramids,  hold  political  meet- 
ings with  a speaker  standing  on  the  Sphinx’s  head,  or 
make  the  adytum  of  the  old  temple  below  resound 
with  revival  hymns,  and  you  could  not  diminish  the 
impression  which  these  wonderful  monuments  exact 
and  compel  you  to  feel.  A dead  faith — a.  lost  race — a 
forgotten  power — a half  recovered  history — names  and 
glories  and  supreme  human  forces  become  as  shadows 
— yet  what  tremendous,  overwhelming  records  they 
have  left  behind  ! 

As  1 rested  in  the  shade,  looking  up  to  the  gray 
pinnacles,  so  foreshortened  by  nearness  that  much  of 
their  actual  height  was  lost,  yet  still  indescribably 
huge,  I could  think  of  but  one  thing:  we  must  have 
a new  chronology  of  Man.  There,  before  me,  the 
Usher-Mosaic  reckoning  was  not  only  antedated,  but 
a previous  growth,  of  long,  uncertain  duration,  was 
made  evident.  There,  in  stones  scattered  about  the 


/ 


A TRIP  TO  THE  PYRAMIDS. 


51 


Desert,  were  inscriptions  cut  long  before  any  tradition 
of  Hebrew,  Sanskrit,  Phoenician,  or  Greek — clear,  in- 
telligible words,  almost  as  legible  to  modern  scholar- 
ship as  those  of  living  languages.  This  one  long,  un- 
broken stream  of  light  into  the  remote  Past  illumi- 
nates darker  historic  apparitions  on  all  sides,  and 
sweeps  us,  with  or  without  our  will,  to  a new  and 
wonderful  backward  starting-point.  Of  course,  the 
learned  in  all  countries  are  familiar  with  our  recently 
acquired  knowledge  on  this  point ; but  is  it  not  time 
to  make  it  the  property  of  the  people  everywhere — to 
discard  the  unmanly  fear  that  one  form  of  truth  can 
ever  harm  any  other  form — to  reveal  anew,  through 
the  grandeur  of  Man’s  slow  development,  the  unspeak- 
able grandeur  of  the  Divine  Soul  by  which  it  is  di- 
rected ? 

I would  not  venture  to  say  that  even  the  English 
tourist,  who  addressed  me  with  : “Is  there — aw — 

anything  particular  to  see  here  ? ” was  not  touched 
somewhere  in  the  roots  of  his  externally  indifferent 
nature.  I am  quite  sure  that  cold  chicken  was  not 
the  only  thought  of  the  young  ladies  who  sat  lunching 
on  the  steps.  When  I find  a gay  young  Irishman,  to 
whom  snipe  and  wild  ducks  are  a prime  interest,  nev- 
theless  going  out  to  see  the  Pyramids  by  moonlight, 
and  then  again  at  two  o’clock  in  the  morning  to  climb 
them  for  the  sunrise,  I am  convinced  that  Cheops 
builded  better  than  he  knew,  and  that  this  pile  of 
stones  means  much  more  to  the  world  than  the  depos- 
itory of  his  royal  carcase. 

Well : I meant  to  send  you  practical,  realistic  re- 


52 


EGYPT. 


ports  of  Egypt,  and  this  letter  will  be  sure  to  bring 
down  upon  me  the  wrath  of  Mark  Twain,  and  all 
others  who  distrust  earnest  impressions.  I plead  guil- 
ty, however,  and  confess  that  I do  not  wholly  belong 
to  the  generation  which  makes  jokes  of  accidents  and 
murders,  and  finds  material  for  laughter  in  classic  art. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  KHEDIVE. 

Cairo,  March  27,  1874. 

WO  or  three  days  ago  Mr.  Beardsley,  the  Agent 


and  Consul-General  of  the  United  States  for 
Egypt,  during  an  interview  with  the  Khedive,  was  kind 
enough  to  request  that  His  Highness  would  receive 
Colonel  Knox,  of  New  York  and  Siberia,  and  my- 
self. Permission  was  accorded  at  once,  and  on  my 
return  from  the  Pyramids  I found  that  the  hour  of 
half-past  ten  yesterday  morning  was  already  appointed 
for  the  ceremony.  The  etiquette  of  the  Egyptian 
Court  is  sufficiently  simple;  full  evening-dress,  with 
white  cravat,  as  at  most  of  the  German  Courts,  is  the 
prescribed  costume.  On  our  way  to  the  Consulate 
we  picked  up  an  open  carriage  with  a respectable  driver, 
beside  whom  the  official  kavass  might  sit  without  de- 
preciating his  gold  lace  and  sabre,  and  then,  accom- 
panied by  Mr.  Beardsley,  we  drove  to  the  Palace  of 
Abdeen.  This  is  a plain,  two-story  building,  stuc- 
coed and  painted  light-blue,  in  the  southwestern  part 
of  Cairo,  fronting  on  a square  which  has  been  laid  out 
between  the  old  city  and  the  new  suburbs.  A tall 
palm-tree,  on  each  side  of  the  main  entrance,  is  the 
only  ornamental  feature.  There  are  a fevv  flower-beds 
and  a fountain  in  the  inner  court,  half  a dozen  soldiers 


54 


EGYPT. 


stand  on  guard,  and  as  many  minor  officials  wait  at 
the  portal  leading  to  the  Khedive’s  apartments.  But 
these  outward  signs  of  state  and  power  are  remark- 
ably  few  and  unpretending. 

The  Master  of  Ceremonies,  Murad  Pasha,  an  Alba- 
nian with  amiable  blue  eyes  and  ruddy  face,  received 
us  at  the  door,  and  ushered  us  into  a waiting-room, 
handsomely  carpeted  and  furnished  in  European  style. 
He  spoke  French  tolerably,  and  started  a conversation 
on  indifferent  matters  by  informing  me  that  he  had 
never  been  to  the  top  of  the  great  Pyramid.  Presently 
Ibrahim  Pasha,  the  Khedive’s  nephew,  and  one  of  the 
fortunate  youths  whose  marriages  were  recently  cele- 
brated with  so  much  pomp,  entered  the  room.  He  is 
the  son  of  Achmet  Pasha— the  next  heir  before  the 
Khedive— who  was  drowned  at  Kafr  ez-Zavat  by  the 
railway  train  running  into  the  Nile.  I should  'take 
Ibrahim  Pasha  to  be  twenty-two  or  twenty-three;  he 
is  tall,  rather  handsome,  with  an  expression  of  phleg- 
matic amiability.  He  made  a few  languid  remarks, 
but  afterward  showed  a little  interest  in  speaking  of 
an  American  trotting  mare  (Irotteuse)  which  he  had 
recently  acquired.  It  is  now,  in  fact,  an  every-day 
sight  in  Cairo  to  find  an  Egyptian  official  driving  at  a 
spanking  rate,  with  a smart  native  tiger  sitting  behind 
him. 

Precisely  at  the  appointed  minute,  the  Khedive’s 
Secretary  announced  that  His  Highness  would  receive 
us.  Murad  Pasha  led  the  way  as  far  as  the  first  landing, 
where  he  halted,  leaving  Mr.  Beardsley  to  mount  the 
second  staircase,  followed  by  Colonel  Knox  and  my- 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  KHEDIVE , 


55 


self.  The  Khedive  was  standing  alone,  at  the  further 
end  of  the  large  carpeted  hall  above.  At  the  top  of 
the  stairs  we  all  paused  and  bowed  ; then  His  High- 
ness came  briskly  forward,  bowed  again,  and  shook 
hands  as  we  were  presented,  pronouncing  the  usual 
courteous  phrases  in  very  excellent  French.  He  led 
the  way  into  a small,  comfortable  apartment,  quite 
like  an  English  parlor  in  its  size  and  appointments, 
seated  himself  on  a chair  in  one  corner  near  the  win- 
dow, and  invited  us,  by  a slight  gesture,  to  take  places 
on  the  sofa  near  him. 

Having  once  seen  the  Khedive’s  father,  the  famous 
Ibrahim  Pasha,  the  fierce  old  Lion  of  the  Orient,  in 
1845,  in  Florence,  I sought  and  easily  found  a strong 
resemblance  to  him  in  the  former’s  face.  But  it  was 
a softer,  kinder,  more  cheerful  likeness.  Ismail  Pasha 
is  about  forty-four  years  of  age,  and  of  the  medium 
height,  although  his  corpulence  makes  him  appear 
shorter.  In  spite  of  his  girth  of  chest  and  the  mas- 
sive thickness  of  his  legs,  he  moves  with  quickness 
and  vigor  ; and  his  face,  phlegmatic  in  repose,  be- 
comes bright  and  animated  when  he  speaks.  The 
pleasant  gray  eves  gleam  under  the  rather  bushy 
brows ; the  mouth,  full  and  voluptuous  as  in  all  the 
race,  is  mobile  and  expressive,  without  those  grim 
lines  in  the  corners  which  indicate  a cruel  inflexibility 
of  will.  He  wears  his  own  thick  dark  hair  under  the 
fez,  and  a full  beard,  clipped  moderately  close.  His 
costume  was  a dark  coat  of  tweed  cloth,  gray  trousers, 
and  patent-leather  boots : a single  diamond  in  the 
cravat  was  the  only  ornament. 


56 


EGYPT. 


At  first  I thought  the  Khedive  slightly  at  a loss  to 
open  the  conversation,  a very  natural  and  probably 
frequent  experience  with  all  rulers  upon  whom  the 
etiquette  of  their  own  Courts  is  imposed.  But  in  the 
Orient  forms  are  looser,  there  is  a franker,  more  dem- 
ocratic character  of  intercourse  between  the  governing 
and  the  governed,  and  we  felt  at  liberty  to  make  re- 
marks and  ask  questions — in  short,  to  assist  in  stirring 
up  the  currents  of  talk.  His  Highness  spoke  with 
great  clearness,  elegance  of  style,  and  intelligence, 
upon  all  the  subjects  discussed.  He  never  hesitated 
for  a word,  chose  apt  and  direct  illustrations,  and  ac- 
companied his  account  of  recent  events  in  Soudan 
with  graceful  and  lively  gestures.  The  circumstance 
that  I knew  the  region,  as  far  as  the  land  of  the  Shil- 
looks,  led  him  to  go  into  many  interesting  details  of 
the  recent  conflict  between  the  Egyptian  troops  and 
the  army  of  Dar-Fur. 

His  attempts  to  suppress  the  trade  in  slaves,  which 
is  the  principal  source  of  revenue  for  the  King  of  Dar- 
Fur,  was,  he  assured  us,  the  sole  cause  of  the  difficulty. 
Between  Dar-Fur  and  the  Egyptian  province  of  Kor- 
dofan,  there  is  a wild,  wandering  tribe  which  has  thus 
far  been  allowed  to  retain  its  old  liberty  on  condition 
of  informing  the  Egyptian  Governor  of  all  hostile 
movements  on  the  part  of  Dar-Fur.  But  when  the  lat- 
ter collected  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  with  three 
cannon,  which  Said  Pasha  had  sent  as  a present  to 
their  King,  during  his  viceroyalty,  this  intervening 
tribe  became  faithless,  failed  to  report  the  movement 
and  held  back,  waiting  to  see  which  side  would  be 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  KHEDIVE.  57 


victorious.  The  Egyptian  commander  had  but  300 
soldiers  when  the  invasion  occurred.  By  hastily  call- 
ing together  all  armed  civil  subordinates  within  reach 
he  increased  his  force  to  600  men,  and  then  gave  bat- 
tle. The  Egyptians,  however,  had  100  well-organized 
soldiers,  armed  with  Remington  rifles,  several  rifled 
cannon,  and  one  mitrailleuse.  Their  victory  was  com- 
plete. They  captured  the  enemy’s  cannon,  killed  the 
Dar-Furian  general,  and  dispersed  the  army.  The 
latest  report  is  that  a new  force,  which  shall  embrace 
the  entire  military  strength  of  Dar-Fur  and  be  com- 
manded by  the  king’s  son,  is  nearly  ready  to  renew 
hostilities.  But  the  Khedive  has  evidently  no  fear  of 
the  result. 

I made  no  reference  to  the  new  expedition,  under 
Colonel  Gordon,  now  on  its  way  to  the  lake  regions  of 
Central  Africa,  because  it  is  generally  understood 
that  the  Khedive  is  not  over-well  pleased  with  any 
reference  to  Sir  Samuel  Baker,  Pasha.  The  latter 
seems  to  have  spent  about  $2,500,000  without  accom- 
plishing anything  more  than  a temporary  advantage 
over  certain  tribes — in  any  case  so  much  less  than  was 
either  promised  or  expected,  that  the  accomplished 
facts  are  not  sufficient  for  the  most. modest  glorifi- 
cation. Colonel  Gordon  has  an  excellent  reputation 
for  pluck  and  endurance,  and  now,  since  the  road  is 
in  a measure  broken  for  him,  he  may  be  able  to  com- 
plete the  work  wherein  Baker,  as  a pioneer,  nearly  in- 
evitably failed.  The  expedition  of  Rohlfs  to  the  Lib- 
yan Desort,  however,  was  not  forbidden  ground;  but 
the  Khedive  informed  us  that  he  had  no  news  of  it 


58 


EGYPT. 


since  the  beginning  of  February.  Dr.  Schweinfurth, 
whose  remarkable  expedition  to  the  country  of  the 
Nyam-Nyams  will  shortly  be  published,  is  waiting  in 
the  great  Oasis  of  Kharjeh  (four  or  five  days’ journey 
west  of  Thebes,)  for  news  of  Rohlfs’s  party.  Two  days 
ago  he  informed  the  German  Consulate  here  that  the 
expedition,  according  to  a rumor  which  had  reached 
the  Oasis,  was  on  its  return,  but  the  Khedive  con- 
sidered this  as  a mere  report,  entitled  to  no  credence. 

After  an  animated  talk  of  half  an  hour  His  High- 
ness rose,  which  was  a signal  that  we  should  take  our 
leave.  He  accompanied  us  into  the  outer  hall,  shook 
hands  again,  very  courteously  begged  us  to  apply  to 
him  in  case  we  found  he  could  be  of  any  service,  and 
remained  standing  until  we  had  descended  the  first 
flight  of  steps,  when  there  were  final  bows  on  both 
sides.  His  manner,  during  the  reception,  was  that  of 
an  intelligent  and  thoroughly-bred  gentleman  toward 
strangers  who  are  commended  to  his  attention. 
Murad  Pasha  received  us  at  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
accompanied  us  to  the  portal,  and  the  interview  was 
over. 

The  Khedive  spoke  of  a race  of  pigmies  which  had 
been  discovered  in  the  very  heart  of  Central  Africa, 
beyond  the  land  of  the  Nyam-Nyams,  and  advised  us 
to  look  at  two  natives  of  the  tribe  which  had  recently 
reached  Cairo.  On  leaving  t.he  Palace  of  Abdeen, 
therefore,  we  drove  immediately  to  the  Palace  of  the 
Nile,  near  Boulak,  where  they  are  now  kept.  On 
making  inquiry,  the  soldiers  in  the  inner  court  imme- 
diately pointed  out  two  small  boys  (apparently),  wear- 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  KHEDIVE.  59 


ing  the  fez,  and  dressed  in  jackets  and  trovvsers  of 
white  wool.  I should  have  taken  them  for  children  of 
some  Ethiopian  tribe  at  the  first  glance,  and  was  not 
satisfied,  until  after  a close  inspection,  that  one  of 
them  was  a full-grown  man. 

Dr.  Schweinfurth  saw  some  natives  of  the  tribe 
among  the  Nyam-Nyams,  but  only  reached  the  bor- 
ders of  their  country,  which  lies  beyond  that  of  the 
latter,  and  therefore  south  of  the  equator — probably 
from  three  to  five  hundred  miles  west  of  the  central 
part  of  the  Albert  Nyanza.  But  after  Schweinfurth’s 
return  the  veteran  Italian  traveler  Miani,  whose 
name,  carved  upon  a tree  near  Fatiko,  will  be  remem- 
bered by  all  readers  of  Speke’s  and  Baker’s  narratives, 
started  on  a new  journey  of  exploration  from  which  he 
was  destined  never  to  return.  On  the  6th  of  Novem- 
ber last  some  boats  reached  Khartoum  with  the  jour- 
nals and  collections  of  Miani,  who  died  in  a country 
called  Monbutto.  These  were  taken  by  the  governor 
of  Khartoum,  and  three  pigmies,  who  were  supposed 
to  be  slaves,  were  temporarily  imprisoned.  When  the 
intelligence  reached  Cairo,  the  Khedive  ordered  Mi- 
ani’s  papers  and  collections  to  be  given  to  the  Italian 
Consul  and  the  pigmies  to  be  sent  to  him.  One  of 
them,  a woman,  died  on  the  way ; the  other  two 
peached  here  a few  weeks  ago.  They  are  the  first  of 
their  race  who  have  ever  been  seen  outside  of  Central 
Africa.  The  Khedive,  who  gave  me  these  particulars, 
seemed  much  interested  in  the  people,  and  probably 
intends  to  use  them,  if  they  survive,  as  a medium  of 
future  intercourse  with  their  tribe. 


6o 


EGYPT. 


The  soldiers  brought  the  pigmies  forward  for  our 
inspection.  They  came,  half  willingly,  half  with  an 
air  of  defiance,  or  of  protest  against  the  superior 
strength  which  surrounded  them.  A tall  Dinka,  from 
the  White  Nile,  blacker  than  charcoal,  who  accom- 
panied them  was  one  of  Miani’s  men.  He  spoke 
some  Arabic,  and  I was  thus  able  to  get  a little  addi- 
tional information  through  him.  He  assured  me  that 
the  pigmies  were  called  Naam;  that  their  country 
was  a journey  of  a year  and  a half  from  Khartoum 
(probably  the  time  occupied  by  a trading  expedition 
in  going  thither  and  returning),  and  that  the  place 
from  which  they  came  had  the  name  of  Takkatikat.* 
The  taller  of  the  two  pigmies,  Tubbul  by  name,  was 
twenty  years  old;  the  younger,  Karal,  only  ten  or 
twelve. 

The  little  fellows  looked  at  me  with  bright,  question- 
ing, steady  eyes,  while  I examined  and  measured  them. 
Tubbul  was  forty-six  inches  in  height,  the  legs  being 
twenty-two  inches,  and  the  body,  with  the  head, 
twenty-four,  which  is  a somewhat  better  proportion 
than  is  usual  in  savage  tribes.  Head  and  arms  were 
quite  symmetrical,  but  the  spine  curved  in  remarkably 
from  the  shoulders  to  the  hip-joint,  throwing  out  the 
abdomen,  which  was  already  much  distended,  proba- 
bly from  their  former  diet  of  beans  and  bananas.  Yet 
the  head  was  erect,  the  shoulders  on  the  line  of  gravity, 
and  there  was  no  stoop  in  the  posture  of  the  body,  as 


* Dr.  Schweinfurth  calls  the  country  “ Akka,"  in  his 
recent  work. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  KHEDIVE.  61 


in  the  South  African  bushmen.  Tubbul  measured 
twenty-six  inches  around  the  breast  and  twenty-eight 
around  the  abdomen ; his  hands  and  feet  were  coarse- 
ly formed,  but  not  large,  only  the  knee-joints  being 
disproportionately  thick  and  clumsy.  The  facial  angle 
was  fully  up  to  the  average  ; there  was  a good  develop- 
ment of  brain,  fine  intelligent  eyes,  and  a nose  so  flat- 
tened that,  in  looking  down  the  forehead  from  above, 
one  saw  only  the  lips  projecting  beyond  it.  The  nos- 
trils were  astonishingly  wide  and  square  ; the  com- 
plexion was  that  of  a dark  mulatto. 

The  boy  Karal  was  forty-three  inches  high,  with  the 
same  general  proportions.  Both  had  woolly  hair,  cut 
short  in  front,  but  covering  the  crown  with  a circular 
cap  of  crisp  little  rolls.  Tubbul’s  age  showed  itself, 
on  nearer  examination,  in  his  hands,  feet,  and  joints, 
rather  than  in  his  face.  He  had  no  beard,  but  was 
apparently  of  virile  years.  I lifted  him  from  the 
ground,  and  should  not  estimate  his  weight  at  more 
than  sixty-five  pounds.  The  soldiers  stated  that  nei- 
ther of  the  two  had  learned  more  than  a few  words  of 
Arabic,  but  that  they  talked  a great  deal  to  each  other 
in  their  own  language.  However,  when  ordered  to 
speak,  Tubbul  turned  and  walked  away.  A soldier, 
seized  and  drew  him  back,  whereupon  he  stood  still 
and  sullen  in  his  former  place.  At  a recent  meeting 
of  the  Egyptian  Institute  it  was  stated  that  the  lan- 
guage of  these  pigmies  has  no  resemblance  to  that 
of  any  other  in  Central  Africa. 

The  country  of  Naam,  or  Takkatikat,  or  whatever 
may  be  its  correct  name,  is  reported  to  be  an  equato- 


62 


EGYPT. 


rial  table-land  covered  with  low,  dense  thickets,  in 
which  the  pigmies  hide.  The  Khedive  told  me  that 
they  are  quite  warlike,  and  by  no  means  despicable 
foes  to  their  larger  negro  neighbors,  since  they  are 
active  as  apes  and  difficult  to  find  among  their  native 
jungles.  Dr.  Schweinfurth  supposes  them  to  be  the 
pigmies  mentioned  by  Herodotus.  The  Darwinians 
will  hardly  find  an  intermediate  race  between  man  and 
monkey,  in  them.  Their  curious  physical  peculiari- 
ties, especially  the  curvature  of  the  spine,  the  promi- 
nent development  of  the  shoulders,  the  wide  mouth, 
with  flat  but  distinctly  marked  lips  and  the  squareness 
and  breadth  of  the  nostrils  are  not  of  a simian  charac- 
ter. In  fact,  they  look  less  like  the  chimpanzee  than 
several  of  the  tall  and  athletic  negro  tribes. 

When  I was  on  the  White  Nile,  in  1852,  the  Nyam- 
Nyams  were  spoken  of  by  the  people  as  a frightful 
race  of  cannibals,  with  tails.  No  one  had  ever  seen 
them ; the  very  name  was  a terror  to  the  natives  of 
Soudan  and  an  obstacle  to  the  traveller.  Now  their 
country  has  been  reached  and  partially  explored,  and 
specimens  of  the  race  have  ventured  even  as  far  as 
Khartoum.  The  pigmies  prove  to  be  far  more  inter- 
esting than  they,  from  an  ethnological  point  of  view, 
and  we  shall  certainly  soon  learn  more  of  them. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


RAILWAYS  IN  EGYPT. 

Cairo,  April  2,  1874. 

IT  is  not  quite  twenty  years  since  the  first  railway  in 
Egypt,  from  Alexandria  to  Cairo — rendered  neces- 
sary by  the  overland  route  from  England  to  India — 
was  completed.  The  construction  was  not  expensive, 
the  two  arms  of  the  Nile  were  not  bridged  but  crossed 
by  steam  ferries,  and  the  result  was  so  encouraging 
that  a continuation  of  the  line  from  Cairo  to  Suez  was 
soon  determined  upon  and  carried  out.  The  first  road 
was  one  hundred  and  thirty-one  miles  in  length,  the 
second  ninety-four.  The  latter  offered  few  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  grading ; the  line  followed  the  old  cara- 
van route,  skirting  the  northern  base  of  the  mountains 
between  Cairo  and  the  Red  Sea,  and  the  chief  incon- 
venience was  the  necessity  of  carrying  supplies  of  water 
from  the  Nile  to  the  intermediate  stations. 

Since  the  Suez  Canal  has  been  completed  this  line 
is  changed.  The  new  fresh-water  canal,  leaving  the 
Nile  at  Cairo,  following  the  course  of  an  ancient  Egyp- 
tian canal,  and  supplying  the  town  of  Ismailia,  with  a 
branch  to  Suez  and  a large  pipe  extending  fifty  miles, 
to  Port  Said,  on  the  Mediterranean,  suggested  a change 
in  the  rout  of  the  railway.  The  track  directly  across 


64 


EGYPT. 


the  desert  was  taken  up,  and  a new  line  built,  beside 
the  fresh-water  canal,  with  a branch  to  the  Alexandria- 
Cairo  road  at  Benha,  and  another  from  the  town  of 
Zagazig  (in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Land  of  Goshen) 
to  Cairo.  Thus  the  passengers  overland  to  India  now 
travel  directly  from  Alexandria  to  Suez,  without  touch- 
ing the  capital.  The  number  of  steamers  which  tra- 
verse the  Suez  Canal,  however,  is  constantly  increas- 
ing, and  the  stage  by  rail  through  Egypt  will  no 
doubt  be  given  up  altogether  in  a few  years  more. 

But  the  building  of  railways  in  Egypt  thus  intro- 
duced by  the  exigencies  of  a foreign  route  of  travel 
will  henceforth  be  continued,  both  as  a necessity  and 
a source  of  profit  to  the  Government.  The  natives 
have  bravely  overcome  whatever  prejudice  or  super- 
stition they  may  have  had  in  the  beginning  ; they  now 
crowd  the  trains,  evidently  enjoy  the  rapid  motion, 
and  even  trust  their  donkeys,  camels,  and  horses  of 
Nedjid  blood,  to  the  cattle-cars.  Freight  as  well  as 
passenger  traffic  increases  constantly,  and,  carelessly 
as  the  trains  seem  to  run  on  all  except  the  main  lines, 
accidents  are  very  rare.  The  officials  have  acquired 
a certain  amount  of  exactness  in  regard  to  time,  but 
in  a passive  mechanical  way,  as  if  the  subject  had  not 
yet  reached  either  brain  or  conscience;  and  I presume 
the  telegraphic  signals  of  stoppage  or  delay  are  still 
looked  upon  as  a sort  of  pastime,  to  allay  their  lan- 
guid curiosity.  Somehow,  nevertheless,  the  machine 
keeps  going ; the  time-tables  may  be  reduced  to  a 
state  of  chaos,  but  the  trains  avoid  collision,  and  the 
passengers  neither  fear  nor  complain.  All  is  quiet. 


RAIL  WA  FS  IN  EGYPT. 


65 


easy,  good-natured.  At  the  stations  a man  cries  out 
to  the  people  on  both  sides  of  the  track  : “ Take  care 
of  your  legs,  O men,  O women  ! ” just  as  the  donkey- 
boys  do  in  the  bazars.  The  waiting-rooms  are  swept 
as  rarely  as  the  chambers  in  the  old-fashioned  khans, 
and,  like  them,  are  populous  with  fleas.  There  is 
generally  a long  divan,  covered  with  dirty  chintz 
cushions,  but  no  European  chairs.  The  tickets  are 
printed  in  Arabic,  except  the  first-class,  which  are 
also  in  English. 

At  a way-station  on  the  road  to  Upper  Egypt,  I 
ventured  to  express  a little  impatience,  after  waiting 
three  hours  for  the  one  daily  slow  train,  and  finding 
that  its  whereabouts  had  not  even  been  announced  by 
telegraph.  “You  must  remember,”  said  the  official 
to  whom  I spoke,  “that  this  is  a new  road,  and  it 
takes  some  time  to  get  everything  in  order.” 

“How  long  has  the  road  been  open  ? ” I asked. 

“Only  five  or  six  years.” 

“And  when  do  you  expect  to  have  the  trains  run- 
ning on  time?  In  forty  or  fifty  years?”  I inquired, 
with  a grave  countenance,  and  the  official,  never  sus- 
pecting irony,  answered  : 

“Inshallah  ! ” (If  God  wills  it.) 

There  is  now  a tolerably  complete  network  of  com- 
munication by  rail  throughout  the  Delta.  From  Zag- 
azig,  on  the  Suez  road,  a branch  runs  to  Mansourah, 
and  thence  to  Damietta;  another  from  Tantah  to 
Mansourah ; a third  to  Dessouk,  on  the  Rosetta 
branch  of  the  Nile;  and  there  are  various  other 
shorter  lines  leading  to  the  rich  agricultural  centres. 


66 


EGYPT. 


The  road  from  Alexandria  to  Rosetta  will  soon  be 
built,  together  with  another  leading  directly  from  the 
Alexandria-Suez  line  to  Port  Said.  When  the  latter 
are  finished  there  will  be  no  part  of  the  Delta  more 
than  twenty  miles  from  a railroad.  The  great  increase 
in  the  area  of  cultivated  land  must  be  attributed  rather 
to  this  fact  than  to  any  special  encouragement  given 
by  the  Khedive’s  Government  to  the  agricultural  in- 
dustry of  the  country. 

The  Upper  Egypt  Railway  was  finished  as  far  as 
Benisouef,  seventy-five  miles  south  of  Cairo,  some  five 
or  six  years  ago,  and  has  made  rather  slow  progress 
since,  although  it  seems  to  do  a good  business,  in  spite 
of  the  competition  of  the  Nile  boats.  The  track  is  now 
finished  as  far  as  Siout,  the  capital  of  Upper  Egypt, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Cairo,  where  it  will, 
probably  rest  awhile,  before  being  extended  to  Ken- 
neh,  Thebes,  and  Assouan.  A branch  road  twenty-five 
miles  in  length,  strikes  westward  from  it  across  an  arm 
of  the  Libyan  Desert  and  reaches  Medeeneh,  the  capi- 
tal of  the  province — -or,  rather,  large  detached  oasis — 
of  the  Fyoom.  From  Medeeneh,  again,  two  branches, 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  long,  connect  with  sugar 
factories  belonging  to  the  Khedive,  but  trains  are  only 
put  upon  them  during  a small  part  of  the  year. 

Workmen  and  material  are  at  present  being  sent  up 
the  Nile  to  construct  a small  railway  around  the  First 
Cataract  at  Assouan.  This  undertaking  will  hardly 
require  more  than  a year  to  complete  ; it  will  make  a 
difference  of  several  days  in  the  transport  of  freight, 
etc.,  between  Egypt  and  the  countries  of  Soudan. 


RAIL  IV A YS  IN  EGYPT. 


67 


A far  more  important  plan,  however,  is  the  building 
of  a road  from  Wady  Haifa,  the  Second  Cataract,  to 
the  Ethiopian  Nile,  at  the  old  capital  of  Shendy, 
within  seventy  or  eighty  miles  of  Khartoum.  This 
route  has  been  surveyed,  and  the  report,  prepared  by 
Mr.  Fowler,  an  English  engineer,  presents  the  under- 
taking in  a very  feasible  form.  The  road  will  follow 
the  Nile  through  Nubia  to  the  town  of  Edabbe,  where 
the  great  northward  and  eastward  curve  or  ‘‘elbow  ” 
of  the  river  commences,  and  will  thence  strike  through 
the  Bayuda  Desert  to  a terminus  not  far  from  the 
junction  of  the  White  and  Blue  Niles.  Its  entire  length 
would  be  about  five  hundred  and  thirty-three  miles, 
and  the  cost  of  construction,  on  account  of  the  easy 
grading  and  low  price  of  labor  would  be  comparatively 
small.  There  are  numerous  good  wells  in  the  Bayuda 
Desert,  obviating  the  necessity  of  transporting  supplies 
of  water. 

All  this  looks  well,  but  Mr.  Fowler’s  plan  of  eventu- 
ally continuing  the  line  to  Khartoum,  and  then  build- 
ing another  road  thence  along  the  northern  base  of 
the  Abyssinian  Highlands,  to  the  Red  Sea,  strikes  me 
as  being  a little  too  ambitious.  It  is  true,  as  he  says, 
that  overland  passengers  to  India,  disembarking  at 
Alexandria,  and  having  a continuous  line  of  rail  to  the 
Abyssinian  port  of  Massowa,  would  not  only  avoid  the 
dreaded  temperature  of  the  Red  Sea,  but  would  gain 
three  or  four  days  in  time  ; but,  I imagine,  before  this 
line  is  completed,  there  will  already  be  a direct  rail- 
way in  existence,  passing  through  Asiatic  Turkey, 
Persia,  and  Afghanistan:  Or,  will  it  be  by  the  way 


63 


RAIL  WA  YS  IN  EGYPT. 


of  Astrakhan,  the  Aral  Sea,  or  the  Oxus?  For  if 
England  does  not  soon  build  such  a line,  Russia  will. 

The  Egyptian  Government,  by  overturning  the  jeal- 
ous and  despotic  chieftaincies  of  Nubia,  Ethiopia,  and 
Soudan,  has  reduced  the  great  central  region  watered 
by  the  Nile,  to  tolerable  order.  It  has  now  the  higher 
task  of  repopulating,  by  a wise  and  just  administration 
of  affairs,  the  desolated  provinces,  re-opening  the  old, 
sand-choked  canals  of  irrigation,  turning  the  plains  of 
wiry  grass  and  poisonous  euphorbia  into  harvests  of 
wheat,  cane,  and  cotton,  and  finally  (since  every 
measure  here  is  dictated  by  a policy  of  pure  selfish- 
ness), drawing  a revenue  from  the  moderate  taxation 
of  wealth,  ten-fold  more  than  now,  from  the  oppressive 
taxation  of  poverty.  In  spite  of  all  that  has  been 
done,  up  to  this  time,  I see  no  reason  for  such  a 
hope. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


Cairo,  April  2,  1874. 


S a region  which  is  in  Egypt,  but  in  many  strik- 


ing respects  not  of  it ; which  is  as  fertile  as  the 
Nile-valley,  yet  never  inundated;  which  has  been 
known  and  inhabited  for  five  thousand  years,  is  within 
a day’s  journey  of  Cairo,  and  still  remains  unvisited  by 
the  annual  throng  of  tourists — the  Fyoorn  may  claim 
to  be  something  of  a curiosity.  Among  the  English 
and  American  residents  of  Alexandria  and  Cairo  I 
have  found,  it  is  true,  several  who  intend  making 
shooting  excursions  thither  (water-fowl  being  very 
abundant  at  certain  seasons),  but  not  one  who  has 
ever  carried  out  his  intention.  The  last  description  of 
the  region  was  written  a year  ago  by  a French  art- 
student,  who  accompanied  his  master,  Gerome.  Its 
inaccuracies  are  as  evident  as  they  are  fantastic,  yet 
of  the  kind  which  stimulates  the  reader  to  go  and  see 
for  himself.  Wilkinson  and  Mariette  Bey  supply  the 
necessary  archaeology — which  is  not  very  extensive — 
and  this  is  the  end  of  preparation,  unless  the  traveller 
be  of  luxurious  habits. 

There  were  two  young  Americans  in  Cairo  who  were 
willing  to  venture  with  me  beyond  the  frontier  of 


"O 


EGYPT. 


hotels,  without  taking  tents  and  camp  equipage  with 
us.  An  old,  devout,  one-eyed  Moslem,  named  Hassan 
Suleyman,  was  engaged  by  Achmet  as  attendant  and 
interpreter ; shawls  and  Bedouin  cnpotes  constituted 
the  only  baggage.  In  such  light  travelling  order  we 
set  forth  four  days  ago  on  a cool  morning  for  the  rail- 
way station  of  Boulak-Dakrour,  beyond  the  Nile, 
where  the  daily  train  for  Upper  Egypt  starts  whenever 
it  gets  ready,  without  regard  to  the  published  time- 
table. Bridge  and  highways  were  crowded,  at  that 
early  hour,  with  country-people  bound  for  market, 
camels  laden  with  bales  of  freshly-cut  clover,  and 
donkeys  hardly  visible  under  huge  sacks  of  vegetables. 
The  Pyramids,  flushed  with  red,  and  wonderfully 
sharp  in  outline,  seemed  to  have  been  moved  much 
nearer  the  Nile  since  the  evening  before,  when  they 
hovered  like  half-transparent  shadows  on  the  dim 
verge  of  the  plain. 

This  railway  station,  like  the  others  I had  already 
seen,  seems  to  have  assumed  the  character  of  the  old 
caravan  camp.  Scores  of  Fellahs,  petty  merchant’s, 
and  sometimes  also  Bedouins  squat  in  the  dry  dust 
and  bargain  or  gossip ; bales  and  jars  are  heaped 
around,  camels  kneel  with  tethered  knees,  and  women 
with  oranges,  or  boys  with  earthen  water-bottles  cry 
their  wares  far  more  loudly  and  mournfully  than  is 
necessary.  Even  the  native  passengers  are  in  no 
hurry  to  take  their  seats,  for  the  train  is  in  no  hurry 
to  go ; the  locomotive  is  like  an  old  caravan-leader, 
who  summons  one  and  then  another  detachment  of  his 
troop,  and  pretends  that  all  is  ready  long  before  he 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


7i 


thinks  of  starting.  By  degrees,  however,  the  open 
third-class  cars  were  filled;  some  officials  and  pros- 
perous merchants  settled  themselves  in  the  more  com- 
fortable second-class,  but  we  were  the  only  tenants  of 
the  faded  compartment,  cushioned  with  dusty  leather, 
which  bore  the  word  “First”  (in  English)  on  the 
door.  Our  departure,  also,  like  that  of  a caravan,  was 
so  quiet  that  we  hardly  noticed  it:  there  was  only 
noise  during  the  preparation. 

Once  beyond  Gizch,  the  palm-groves  and  wheat- 
fields  sped  rapidly  past ; the  pyramids  of  Sakkarah 
and  then  of  Dashoor,  took  their  “eternal  stands”  in 
turn,  on  their  platforms  of  wind-blown  Libyan  sand. 
Here  and  there  a reach  of  the  Nile  glittered  on  the 
left,  and  the  yellow  Arabian  hills  drew  nearer.  The 
unfolding  changes  of  the  landscape  would  have  been 
monotonous  had  they  not  been  so  bright : but  every 
field  hastening  towards  harvest  was  of  a more  succu- 
lent green  than  the  last,  and  every  cape  of  the  desert 
hills  on  either  side  blazed  more  keenly  under  the  in- 
creasing fervor  of  the  sun.  I had  seen  the  same  pic- 
tures, far  more  slowly  evolved,  from  the  deck  of  a Nile 
boat,  in  1851,  and  could  not  then  wish  to  behold  them 
in  swifter  succession  ; but  now  the  very  swiftness  with 
which  they  came  seemed  an  additional  charm. 

We  halted  at  Bedrasheyn  (station  for  Memphis!) 
then  at  Kafr  el-Iyat,  and  one  or  two  other  unimpor- 
tant towns.  At  each  place  a multitude  of  the  Fellah 
youth  of  both  sexes  suddenly  made  their  appearance 
with  water-bottles  and  bunches  of  green  horse-beans, 
which  they  offered  for  sale.  A grim  brakeman — if 


72 


EGYPT. 


there  is  such  an  appendage  to  these  deliberate  trains 
— in  every  case  drove  away  the  children,  pursued 
them,  overtook  them  in  the  fields,  emptied  the  water 
or  scattered  the  bean-pods,  regardless  of  the  lament- 
able shrieks  and  weeping  which  followed,  and  then 
returned  to  the  train  with  an  air  of  triumph,  only  to 
provoke  a fresh  attempt.  In  vain  we  commissioned 
Hassar.  to  stop  the  persecution  of  the  persistent  young 
Egyptians,  the  sale  of  water  and  raw  beans  seeming  to 
us  sanctioned  even  by  all  prohibitory  laws;  the  brake- 
man,  or  whatever  he  was,  continued  his  crusade  at 
each  station,  and  we  always  left  a shrill  chorus  of 
curses  and  lamentations  behind  us.  Centuries  hence, 
no  doubt,  the  same  scenes  will  be  repeated,  for  the 
Egyptians  learn  a new  fact  even  more  slowly  than  the 
Bourbons  in  Europe  or  the  Jackson  Democrats  at 
home. 

After  nearly  three  hours  of  such  travel  we  reached 
the  station  of  El-Wasta,  about  fifty-five  miles  south 
of  Cairo.  Here  we  left  the  train  to  pursue  its  way- 
ward course  towards  the  frontiers  of  Upper  Egypt, 
and  waited  for  the  corresponding  train  from  above, 
after  the  arrival  of  which,  and  not  sooner,  we  should 
be  forwarded  westward  on  a branch-road  to  Medeeneh, 
the  capital  of  the  Fyoom.  Hassan  found  a tolerably 
clean  room  in  the  station-house,  and  began  to  unpack 
our  lunch,  when  the  announcement  came  that  this 
apartment  was  reserved  for  high  government  officials, 
and  dare  not  be  profaned  by  Frank  tourists.  So  we 
betook  ourselves  to  the  waiting-room  for  the  higher 
classes,  which  had  not  been  swept  for  some  months, 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


73 


and  would  not  have  been  temporarily  habitable  but 
for  windows  without  glass.  Hassan,  as  a devout  Mus- 
sulman, refused  the  offered  wine ; but  the  station- 
master  scented  it  from  afar,  and  so  implied  a consent 
in  his  first  refusal  that  both  conscience  and  palate 
were  finally  satisfied.  After  all,  I can  tolerate  many 
of  the  faults  of  the  native  Egyptians : no  other  peo- 
ple are  so  frankly  hypocritical.  Their  attempts  to 
circumvent  you  are  a sort  of  conventional  obedience 
to  the  promptings  of  their  self-interest — if  the  at- 
tempt succeed,  the  success  justifies  it — if  it  fail,  well, 
they  have  at  least  done  their  duty  ! 

In  the  warmth  of  his  opened  heart  the  station- 
master  informed  us  that  the  down  train  was  due  at 
half-past  one,  but  hardly  ever  arrived  before  five  ; so 
we  were  left  to  amuse  ourselves  at  El-Wasta  in  the 
interval.  While  my  friends  went  off  to  try  to  shoot 
pigeons  with  revolvers,  I made  a sketch  of  the  Ha- 
ram  el-Kedab  (False  or  Lying  Pyramid),  which  rose 
massive  and  majestic  above  the  western  sands.  It  is 
singular  that  this  monument  has  received  so  little  at- 
tention from  archaeologists.  Its  form,  a diminishing 
cube,  ending  in  a terrace  from  which  rises  a second 
and  narrower  cube,  is  like  that  of  no  other  Egyptian 
pyramid.  In  the  necropolis  beside  it,  Mariette  Bey 
found,  two  or  three  years  ago,  the  wonderful  painted 
statues  of  Prince  Ra-Hotep,  and  Princess  Nefer-t,  of 
the  Third  Dynasty,  undoubtedly  the  oldest,  as  they  are 
the  most  excellent  specimens  of  Egyptian  art.  There 
is  much  evidence  to  declare  that  this  pyramid  is  con- 
siderably older  than  that  of  Cheops, — and  it  has  never 


74 


EGYPT. 


yet  been  opened.  However  much  of  Ancient  Egypt 
has  been  discovered  and  deciphered,  I am  convinced 
that  still  more  is  waiting  under  sand  and  behind  stub- 
born masonry. 

A swarm  of  Fellah  boys  so  persecuted  me,  that  I 
finally  made  a temporary  surrender,  and  tried  to  find 
a diversion  in  “chaffing”  them.  But  they  were  al- 
most too  much  for  me,  unless  my  knowledge  of  Ara- 
bic had  been  complete.  If  I happened,  for  a moment, 
to  get  the  better  of  one,  in  repartee,  in  five  minutes 
he  reappeared  with  something  stronger  and  sharper. 
The  backsheesh  I gave,  only  brought  demands  for 
more,  and  when  I remonstrated  against  such  shame- 
less greed,  the  inevitable  answer  was  : “ What  would 
you  have  ? we  are  all  miserably  poor.”  Finally,  I re- 
treated into  a little  garden  of  fig,  pomegranate,  and 
date  trees  adjoining  the  station,  and  prohibited  the 
imps  from  coming  near.  It  was  quite  in  vain  : they 
kept  within  the  range  of  my  eyes,  as  I turned  to  one 
side  or  the  other,  and  would  soon  have  exhausted 
even  my  assumed  Oriental  patience,  had  not  two 
grave  seigniors  arrived  from  the  village.  When  the  lat- 
ter began  to  talk  with  me,  the  boys  became  silent  and 
respectful.  The  courtesy,  the  easy,  quiet  dignity  of 
the  men  was  something  delightful  to  encounter.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  wildest  and  rudest  of  the  boys 
was  persuaded  to  give  an  imitation  of  the  zumarra,  or 
Arab  flute,  which  he  rendered  by  the  voice  with  a 
good’ deal  of  skill:  then,  as  I preferred  a song,  he 
threw  back  his  head,  opened  his  throat  to  the  utmost, 
and  simply  released  (as  it  seemed)  a hundred  varia- 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


75 


tions  of  some  strain  of  yearning  and  passion  which 
had  been  pent  within  him.  Arabic  notes  are  divided 
into  thirds  of  tones  instead  of  semi-tones,  and  the 
music  thus  receives  a peculiar  swaying,  undulating 
character  which  it  is  quite  impossible  to  describe.  With 
the  wildest  abandon,  the  song  is  yet  held  within  met- 
rical limits  ; certain  words,  as  they  recur,  flutter,  and 
tremble  through  a scale  which  is  new  to  our  ears ; 
but  the  sentiment  of  the  song  can  never  be  mistaken. 

How  could  this  thoughtless  boy,  still  singing  so- 
prano. so  give  voice  to  the  intensest  virile  passion  ? 
It  was  a puzzle  to  me,  as  I looked  upon  his  bright, 
laughing  eyes,  yet  heard  the  deep-breathed  “ Allah  ! ” 
which  attested  the  supreme  satisfaction  of  the  two 
men.  With  the  same  groans,  or  rather  grunts,  of 
ardent  spiritual  delight,  as  I have  often  heard  at  camp- 
meetings  at  home,  they  accompanied  the  lines  of  a 
song  which  was  a ruder  reflection  of  that  which  Solo- 
mon sang,  “ Open  to  me  : the  dew  is  on  my  head  : I 
wander  lonely  in  the  night — O,  night,  O,  night ! 
Hearken,  my  beloved,  1 seek  thee  in  the  night ! ” 
Even  the  smaller  boys  were  silent,  with  a touch  of  ig- 
norant respect  on  their  faces  : to  a stranger  the  per- 
formance would  have  appeared  religious  rather  than 
amorous.  There  was  a decent  pause  afterwards : then 
the  lawless  greed  and  mockery  of  the  young  crowd 
broke  forth,  worse  than  before. 

Punctually  to  the  usual  delay,  the  train  from  above 
made  its  appearance,  and  paid  a visit  of  neaidy  half 
an  hour.  After  its  departure,  we  took  our  seats  in  one 
of  the  passenger-cars  attached  to  a freight-train  to 


76 


EGYPT. 


Medeeneh,  and  were  tormented  by  the  unwearied  boys 
until  the  motion  became  too  rapid  for  them  to  follow. 
There  was  still  an  hour  before  sunset,  and  twenty-five 
miles  to  be  traversed  ; but  the  gap  in  the  Libyan  hills 
to  the  westward  hinted  of  no  heavy  grades,  and  we 
soon  attained  a cheerful  rate  of  speed.  The  road 
crosses  the  green  plain  of  the  Nile  nearly  at  right 
angles  to  the  course  of  the  river.  At  that  hour,  hus- 
bandman and  camel  and  buffalo  had  finished  their 
day’s  work,  and  were  plodding  towards  one  or  the 
other  of  the  villages  which  nestled  under  their  several 
palm-groves,  in  the  distance.  One,  only,  lay  near  the 
railway-track,  built  upon  the  ruins  of  many  centuries 
of  previous  villages,  above  a pool  of  water  fed  from 
the  distant  Nile.  A place  so  fantastic  in  appearance 
I have  rarely  seen.  Every  house  in  it  was  surmount- 
ed with  from  six  to  a dozen  pointed  turrets,  with  dimin- 
utive doors  and  windows  for  the  convenience  of  the 
pigeon  inhabitants.  Large  flocks  of  the  pearly-plum- 
aged  birds  circled  over  the  palms,  going  forth  to  for- 
age or  returning  with  their  spoils. 

A mile  beyond  this  curious  picture  every  sign  of 
life  vanished.  A few  yards  of  drifted  sand,  pierced 
with  clumps  of  a tenacious  grass  which  sends  its  roots 
down  to  the  lurking  moisture,  divide  the  garden  of 
the  Nile  from  the  LibyattDesert.  In  scarcely  more  time 
than  is  required  to  write  these  words,  we  found  our- 
selves in  a bare  yellow  waste,  and  all  the  rich  land  of 
life  lying  as  a diminishing  belt  behind  us.  Some 
low  ridges  soon  hid  it  wholly  from  our  view ; a vast 
plain  of  gravel,  dotted  with  stony  hummocks,  and 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


77 


pools  of  sand  where  in  living  regions  one  would  look 
for  water,  stretched  to  the  sky  on  all  sides.  The  air 
took  on  a sudden  freshness  and  purity ; the  life  within 
me  beat  more  joyously  from  its  contrast  with  the  ex- 
ternal lifelessness ; it  was  the  perfect  atmosphere  of 
the  Desert,  at  last ! But  to  inhale  it,  thus,  from  the 
open  windows  of  a .railway-car, — to  see  the  yellow 
ridges  appear,  speed  past  and  recede,  while  remem- 
bering the  camel’s  pace  and  the  distant  well, — was  to 
me  something  strange  and  unreal.  As  upon  the  sea, 
there  was  no  longer  a consciousness  of  locality  ; when 
the  green  disappears,  like  the  land,  there  is  nothing 
fixed  until  it  rises  again. 

The  illusion,  however,  was  brief.  We  had  not 
traversed  more  than  half  a dozen  miles  of  desert  be- 
fore we  saw  some  men  and  donkeys,  following  a distant 
trail  ; then,  in  the  south,  the  blunt  pyramid  of  Illa- 
hoon  dipped  above  the  horizon,  and  was  followed, 
shortly  afterwards,  by  the  dark  crumbled  pyramid  of  • 
Hawarah,  lying  some  eight  or  ten  miles  further  to  the 
west.  As  I beheld  them,  during  the  brief  time  when 
they  were  both  visible  at  once,  I could  not  help  musing 
alittle  upon  the  ages  when  they  were  the  landmarks  of 
two  intensely  jealous  populations,  and  when  the 
stretch  of  desert  betwen  them  was  frequently  the 
field  of  bloody  conflicts.  Further  to  the  right  once 
stood  the  stately  city  of  Crocodilopolis,  where  the 
crocodile  was  worshipped  as  a sacred  animal ; further 
to  the  left  was  Heracleopolis,  the  inhabitants  whereof 
adored  the  ichneumon.  Now,  even  as  the  latter  ani- 
mal is  the  natural  enemy  of  the  crocodile,  so  the  Her- 


78 


EGYPT. 


acleopolitans  became  the  enemies  of  the  Crocodilopol- 
itans ; each  party  believed  in,  exalted,  and  defended 
the  honor  of  its  special  beast.  Many  and  sanguinary 
were  the  fights  which  arose  from  this  cause  ; but,  let 
no  one  laugh  at  them,  for  several  centuries  to  come  ! 
Does  not  the  old  strife  exist,  under  different  symbols  : 
Have  we  not  still  our  Ichneumonites  and  Crocodil- 
ians? 

The  two  Pyramids,  moreover,  served  to  indicate  the 
course  of  the  immemorial  canal  which  made  the  Fy- 
oom,  as  the  Nile  makes  Egypt.  The  gap  in  the  Lib- 
yan Hills,  through  which  it  is  led,  must  be  consider- 
ably below  the  desert  plateau,  for  not  even  the  topmost 
fringes  of  its  bordering  trees  were  visible.  When  I 
turned  away  from  the  southern  window  of  the  car,  at 
last,  and  looked  through  the  northern,  I was  startled 
by  a broad,  airy  gleam  of  green  and  purple,  melting 
into  the  sky  along  a far-away  horizon.  There  lay  the 
Fyoom  ! The  miles  on  miles  of  wheat  and  cottc-n 
fields,  striped  with  long  palm-groves,  slowly  sinking 
towards  an  unseen  lake,  beyond  which  floated  the  out- 
line of  barren,  rosy-tinted  mountains,  resembled  the 
Nile  valley,  it  is  true,  but  they  were  bathed  in  another 
atmosphere.  There  was  something  of  the  same 
change  which  one  notices  on  crossing  the  channel  be- 
tween England  and  France:  neither  earth  nor  sky 
seems  exactly  the  same. 

An  intermediate  belt  of  grass-tufts,  bushes,  and 
stunted  trees  divides  the  desert  from  the  harvest-land, 
and  the  little  station  of  El  Edwa,  where  the  train 
halted  for  a few  minutes,  was  like  none  of  those  on  the 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


79 


Nile  railway.  A few  dark-skinned  Bedouins  stood  at 
a respectful  distance ; the  children  on  hand  neither 
offered  water  and  beans  nor  asked  for  backsheesh  ; and 
the  drifted  sands  made  a loneliness  about  the  place,  as 
if  it  were  some  old  caravan-well,  not  yet  accustomed 
to  the  new  animal  which  now  snorted  for  his  drink. 
A little  further  we  crossed  a ravine  which  seemed  nat- 
ural, but  may  have  belonged  to  the  earlier  and  more 
perfect  system  of  canals.  There  is  at  least  evidence 
that  a higher  upland  than  is  at  present  reached  by 
irrigation,  was  fertile  in  the  ancient  days. 

From  El  Edwa,  it  is  but  five  miles  to  the  capital, 
Medeeneh, — -or,  to  give  its  full  and  stately  title, — 
Medeenet-el-Fares,  “The  City  of  the  Knight.” 
This  is  later  Arabic : the  old  city  was  first  Croc- 
odilopolis,  and  afterwards  Arsinoe.  The  name  of 
the  province,  Fyoom,  is  the  old  Egyptian  “ Pi-om,” 
meaning  “the  sea,”  so  called  either  from  the  natu- 
ral lake  which  still  exists,  or  the  artificial  lake  made 
by  Amenemha  III.,  of  the  Twelfth  Dynasty  (3000 
B.  C.),  to  which  the  Greeks  gave  the  name  of  Lake 
Moeris.  The  great  canal  which  supplies  the  whole 
region  with  water  is  now  called  Bahr-  Youssuf  (Jo- 
seph’s River),  from  a tradition,  as  old  as  the  time  of 
Josephus,  that  the  Hebrew  Joseph  ordered  its  con- 
struction. In  reality,  it  is  nearly  a thousand  years 
older  than  his  day ; yet,  as  there  are  few  so  ancient 
and  persistent  traditions  without  some  basis  of  fact, 
it  is  quite  possible  that  Joseph  may  have  superintend- 
ed its  repair  or  enlargement.  Mariette’s  discovery, 
that  the  Hyksos  (Shepherd)  Kings  of  Egypt  ruled 


So 


EGYPT. 


also  over  the  Fyoom,  combined  with  the  indirect  evi- 
dence that  Joseph  lived  in  Egypt  under  their  dynasty, 
certainly  favors  this  assumption. 

For  the  remaining  five  miles  the  track  was  nearly  a 
level : cultivated  fields  on  both  sides,  gardens,  villages, 
and  a brilliant  sunset  illumination  made  the  approach 
to  our  destination  very  promising.  Finally,  we  saw 
minarets  ahead,  the  luxurious  villa  of  a rich  official, 
masts  and  sails  between  the  acacias,  and  then  the 
train  very  slowly  came  to  a stop  on  the  rails.  There 
was  no  sign  of  a station,  but  Hassan  came  to  the  door 
and  said:  “Here  we  get  out,  Master!”  A sudden 
doubt  as  to  our  fortune  for  the  night  entered  my  soul : 
but  my  companions,  new  to  the  Orient,  took  up  the 
march  with  as  cheerful  a faith  as  if  there  was  a Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel  in  Medeeneli.  The  first  steps,  in  fact, 
were  alike  surprising  and  charming.  We  stood  upon 
the  banks  of  what  seemed  a natural  river,  winding 
at  its  will  under  overhanging  palms  and  acacias, 
bearing  laden  barges,  and  washing  the  walls  of  the 
town  with  slowly-moving  yet  strong,  deep,  and  clear 
waters.  There  was  no  gateway,  but  an  arch  of  trees, 
in  front,  where  gossips  sat  with  their  pipes  and  cof- 
fee, and  enjoyed  the  increasing  cool  of  the  evening. 
It  was  evidently  the  main  entrance  to  the  town;  for 
the  comers  and  goers  were  numerous  enough  to  keep 
the  air  full  of  dust  which  was  vapory  gold  to  look  at, 
and  as  bad  as  Scotch  snuff  to  inhale. 

Piloted  by  Hassan,  we  plunged  into  the  long,  wind- 
ing, shaded  street  of  bazars,  where  it  was  not  yet  so 
dusky  but  that  we  could  perceive  the  surprise  of  the 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


Si 


merchants  at  the  appearance  of  Franks.  The  day’s 
business  was  over : they  had  leisure  for  curiosity,  and 
were  passively  grateful  for  a chance  to  indulge  it. 
Halting,  finally,  at  a Greek  cafe,  the  windows  of  which 
made  a goodly  show  of  prohibited  liquors,  we  solicited 
lodging  for  the  night ; but  the  proprietor,  after  a rapid 
glance  at  our  persons,  quickly,  but  very  firmly  de- 
clined. “ Is  there  no  khan  ? ” I asked.  Yes,  there  was 
a native  khan  in  the  neighborhood,  the  only  place  in 
the  town  where  strangers  could  be  entertained.  We 
set  off  again,  with  a string  of  inquisitive  idlers  follow- 
ing us,  and  presently  reached  a dingy  portal  which 
gave  access  to  a court  so  narrow  and  gloomy  that  it 
rather  seemed  to  be  a blind  alley.  The  courteous  pro- 
prietor, however,  had  very  primitive  ideas  of  comfort. 
He  took  us  up  a crumbling  stairway,  along  a terrace 
where  the  dust  of  ages  had  never  been  disturbed,  and 
then,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  opened  the  door  of  a 
dismal  cell,  littered  with  straw,  feathers  and  filth, — 
only  vile  walls  and  viler  floor — and  said  : “ Your  lord- 
ships  can  sleep  here  ! ” 

Having  often  lodged  in  worse  places,  I was  not 
greatly  disconcerted ; but  the  faces  of  my  companions 
expressed  sudden  despair.  They  set  out  with  Hassan 
to  make  another  desperate  search  for  quarters,  while 
I went  below  and  ordered  coffee  and  a narghileh. 
One  inquisitive  native  after  another  dropped  in,  and 
formed  a circle  around  me;  none  but  courteous  ques- 
tions were  asked;  yet  there  was  a general  attitude 
of  expectancy  which  the  amateur  Oriental  compre- 
hends at  once.  I therefore  gave  them  as  much  infor- 


82 


EGYPT. 


mation  as  I thought  was  necessary,  and  we  got  on 
very  well  together. 

It  was  more  than  half  an  hour  before  Hassan  and 
my  companions  returned.  This  time,  their  counte- 
nances were  white:  with  them  came  a young  Copt, 
who  was  introduced  as  Tadrus,  teacher  of  the  Ameri- 
can Mission  School,  and  custodian  of  a civilized  cham- 
ber where  Mr.  Harvey,  the  missionary,  lodged  when 
he  visited  Medeeneh.  Since  we  were  the  latter’s 
countrymen,  Tadrus  offered  us  the  room,  and  led  the 
way  to  a remote  quarter  of  the  town,  while  Hassan 
went  to  order  dinner  of  a native  cook.  The  entrance, 
through  stables  and  dark  passages,  was  not  promising, 
but  after  mounting  to  an  upper  terrace,  we  found  a 
clean,  spacious  room,  with  a broad  bed,  a divan, 
tables,  and  chairs,  cheerfully  illuminated  by  a kero- 
sene lamp.  Tadrus  entertained  us  with  an  account 
of  the  school,  and  introduced  two  of  his  Coptic  friends 
in  the  course  of  the  evening;  the  Moslem  dinner, 
when  it  came,  was  excellent;  Moses,  the  servant  of 
Tadrus,  fetched  from  a cafe  a bottle  of  strongly  resin- 
ous yet  classic  Chian  wine ; so  that  when  we  all — born 
Christian,  converted  Christian,  Copt,  and  Mohamme- 
dan— lighted  the  permitted  pipe  together,  the  City  of 
the  Knight  lost  its  inhospitality  and  there  was  peace 
and  comfort  under  the  splendid  Egyptian  moon. 

At  sunrise,  three  donkeys  and  a mule  came  to  the 
door  : Hassan  had  engaged  them,  collectively,  for  the 
day,  together  with  the  services  of  two  men,  for  six 
francs  ! But  the  furniture  belonging  to  the  animals 
was  of  the  kind  which  satisfies  the  native  Fellah, — a 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


83 


single  piece  of  rope  instead  of  a bridle,  a bit  of  bag- 
ging for  a saddle,  and  no  stirrups.  The  latter  defect 
was  remedied,  in  my  case,  by  a doubled  rope,  laid 
across  the  mule’s  back,  into  the  loops  of  which  my 
feet  were  thrust.  It  answered  very  well,  unless,  for- 
getting its  unattached,  sliding  character,  I happened 
to  bear  more  heavily  upon  one  foot:  then,  the  other 
foot  was  drawn  up  suddenly,  and  I risked  losing  my 
balance. 

On  issuing  from  the  town  we  crossed  the  main 
canal,  and  found  ourselves  at  once  within  the  mounds 
of  the  ancient  Crocodilopolis, — brown,  shapeless  heaps, 
filled  with  potsherds,  and  possibly  concealing  many 
historic  treasures  in  their  unexplored  depths.  But 
what  a day  ! — feathery  clouds,  tinted  like  ashcs-of- 
roses,  floating  in  a pale  blue  sky,  a sun  that  warmed 
without  burning,  and  a cool  north-wind,  saturated 
with  the  odor  of  clover  and  bean-blossoms  ! All  that 
is  happiest  in  brain  and  blood  rose  to  the  surface  of 
life,  and  took  possession  of  the  hour.  The  owner  of 
the  beasts  rode  with  us  to  the  end  of  the  ruins,  beg- 
ging to  be  paid  in  advance,  but  I refused  so  kindly  and 
cheerfully  that  he  finally  turned  homeward,  apparently 
quite  content. 

The  way  was  a field-path,  constantly  interrupted  by 
ditches  for  irrigation  and  the  gullies  left  from  old  ca- 
nals. Yet  it  was  another  region  than  the  Nile  valley. 
In  front  of  us,  to  the  northward,  we  saw  the  rosy  tops 
of  the  hills  beyond  the  lake ; on  all  other  sides  the 
green  fields  stretched  away  until  they  made  their  own 
horizon;  and  the  first  canal,  or  arm  of  Joseph’s  river, 


84 


EGYPT. 


when  we  reached  it,  was  no  sluggish,  muddy  stream, 
lagging  along  between  regularly-cut  banks,  but  a 
clear,  natural  brook,  shooting  to  the  right  or  left  in 
search  of  hollows,  bordered  with  reeds  and  wild  willow- 
bushes,  and  murmuring  with  a most  distinct  and 
delightful  sound.  Most  of  the  Fellahs  in  the  fields 
were  too  busy  to  greet,  or  even  to  take  note  of  us,  and 
those  we  met  in  the  path  returned  a hearty  “ Alei- 
koom-salaam  / ” which  is  often  withheld  from  the  un- 
believer, in  Egypt.  A few  miles  from  Medeeneh  we 
saw  an  unexpected  apparition, — a Frank  lady  on  horse- 
back; and,  when  I lifted  my  turban  from  force  of 
habit,  she  saluted  me  with  a hearty  “ Good  morn- 
ing! ” 

Although  we  were  traversing  the  upper  or  higher 
plateau  of  the  Fyoom,  the  vegetation  did  not  seem  to 
be  artificially  called  forth.  Where  there  was  no  irri- 
gation, bushes  or  clumps  of  grass  bordered  the  path, 
and  a turf  which  the  Khedive  cannot  create  for  his 
parks  at  Cairo,  made  a soft  carpet  under  the  palm- 
groves.  At  the  first  large  village,  Biahmoo  by  name, 
I inquired  for  beioot  kadccm — “ old  houses,” — which 
is  the  conventional  term  for  ruins  among  the  Fellahs. 
The  people  pointed  to  two  piles  of  masonry  near  at 
hand,  and  we  rode  thither  as  a matter  of  duty,  know- 
ing that  the  Egyptian  monuments  in  the  Fyoom  are 
few  and  unsatisfactory.  I confess,  however,  that  the 
rude,  unsculptured  piles  we  found  at  Biahmoo,  pro- 
voked a keen  curiosity.  They  are  quite  unlike  any- 
thing else  in  Egypt.  Two  quadrangles,  about  two 
hundred  feet  apart,  stand  nearly  or.  a due  north  and 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


85 


south  line:  they  are  a hundred  by  a hundred  and  fifty 
feet  in  dimensions,  each  having  a square  mass  of  ma- 
sonry in  the  centre,  and  the  remains  of  a pyramid  at 
the  south-eastern  angle.  The  steep  slope  of  the  latter, 
67°,  is  cut  from  the  layers  of  stone,  not  filled  in  from 
the  regular  courses,  as  in  the  case  of  all  other  Egyp- 
tian pyramids.  To  me  this  seemed  to  be  the  earliest 
form  of  pyramidal  architecture,  especially  since  it  is  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  False  Pyramid,  which  is  cer- 
tainly the  oldest  in  the  Nile  valley.  Who  shall  say 
how  long  the  huge,  roughly-dressed  stones  have  been 
resting  one  upon  the  other?  Since  Mariette,  after  a 
rich  experience  of  twenty-five  years,  still  hopes  to  find 
a statue  or  other  record  of  Menes,  the  first  historical 
king  of  Egypt,  at  Abydos,  the  lay  explorer  has  a claim 
to  indulge  his  fancies. 

Beyond  Biahmoo,  the  land  increased  in  richness 
and  beauty.  We  were  approaching  the  edge  of  the 
first  plateau,  and  the  winding  canals  fell  into  shallow 
glens,  plunging  over  weirs  in  little  waterfalls,  or  fairly 
hiding  from  view  under  masses  of  shrubbery.  I hardly 
like  to  call  them  “canals,”  for  the  habit  of  thousands 
of  years  gives  them  the  charm  and  dignity  of  natural 
streams.  The  pictures  they  make  are  quite  fresh, 
even  to  one  who  knows  the  rest  of  Egypt  thoroughly. 
Here  you  see  a cottageon  a high  bank,  willow-shaded, 
such  as  would  have  captivated  the  pensive  soul  of 
Rogers,  but  beyond  the  sparkling  water,  palm-trees 
stand  in  a bed  of  the  richest  clover.  The  borders  are 
natural  turf ; wild-flowers  blossom  in  masses,  and  even 
the  highest  swells  of  the  soil  on  either  hand  are  no 


86 


EGYPT. 


dryer  than  our  grain-fields  at  home,  in  August  One 
cannot  say  that  the  landscapes  of  the  Nile  are  pas- 
toral, for  the  cultivator’s  art  is  everywhere  too  evident; 
but  here  the  scenery  was  really  so,  although  its  charm 
depended  on  differences  so  slight  that  they  will  hardly 
bear  description. 

We  had  travelled  ten  miles  or  more,  when  one  of 
the  donkey-drivers  pointed  out  Senoris,  a long,  brown 
village,  embowered  in  palms,  and  lifted,  like  all 
Egyptian  villages,  on  the  ruins  of  ages  of  decayed  or 
destroyed  towns.  Here  dwelt  Mr.  Harvey,  the  Amer- 
ican missionary,  who  for  seven  years  past  has  been 
buried  in  the  depths  of  the  Fyoom,  hated  by  the 
Copts  whom  he  faithfully  endeavors  to  convert,  and 
tolerated,  in  no  unfriendly  wise,  by  the  Mussulmen. 
We  only  needed  to  ask  for  “ the  school,”  and  were  at 
once  guided  to  his  quarters.  The  sound  of  juvenile 
voices,  each  learning  its  lesson  in  a loud  sing-song, 
met  us  half-way;  but  our  arrival  produced  a sudden 
silence,  for  the  hospitable  missionary  could  not  receive 
the  first  countryman  who  had  ever  visited  him,  with- 
out giving  a holiday.  His  wife,  on  her  way  to  Me- 
deeneh  for  the  mail,  was  the  Frank  lady  whom  we 
had  met,  but  Tadrus  had  already  intrusted  the  mail 
to  our  hands.  A native  servant,  deaf  and  dumb,  en- 
tered and  shook  hands,  with  inarticulate  sounds 
which  expressed  both  welcome  and  respect;  then 
Miss  Thompson,  who  teaches  the  girls  of  Senoris, 
helps  the  oppressed  women  of  the  place  to  their 
rights,  and  turns  domestic  quarrels  into  peace,  sum- 
moned us  to  a Christian  breakfast.  I think  we  should 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM.  87 

have  fared  hardly  in  the  Fyoom  had  it  not  been  for 
the  American  Mission. 

I asked  Mr.  Harvey  whether  he  did  not  find  the 
Mohammedans  more  tolerant  than  the  Copts,  in  re- 
ligious discussion,  and  he  frankly  answered,  “Yes; 
it  often  happens  that  when  the  Copts  assail  me,  the 
Mohammedans  partly  range  themselves  on  my  side.” 
This  is  simply  the  consequence  of  a more  active  re- 
ligious intelligence,  for  Islam  is  nowhere  such  a 
mechanical  dependence  on  forms  as  one  finds  in 
Oriental  Christianity;  the  congregation  worships, 
rather  than  the  priest.  A few  converts  are  made 
among  the  Copts,  it  is  true ; but  the  chief  and  perma- 
nent value  of  these  missions  lies  in  the  education 
which  they  give  to  the  young.  The  example  of  an  up- 
right Christian  life,  also,  is  of  great  service,  where  it 
can  be  continued  by  a succession  of  missionaries  who 
have  close  and  sympathetic  relations  with  the  people; 
but  no  deep  impressions  can  be  produced  until  there 
is  a depth  prepared  to  receive  them. 

There  is  something  touching  about  the  adult  native 
converts  connected  with  all  foreign  missions  where 
they  are  not  yet  numerous  enough  to  form  a commu- 
nity by  themselves.  If  not  social  outcasts  among 
their  own  people,  they  are  regarded  with  the  same  in- 
stinctive dislike  as  an  abolitionist  formerly  in  Virginia, 
or  a Unitarian  in  Scotland.  They  look  depressed, 
uneasy,  like  men  who  expected  to  be  assailed  and  are 
not  strong  enough  to  become  assailants  in  turn.  In 
most  cases,  they  cut  themselves  off  from  all  ordinary 
paths  of  success  in  life,  such  as  their  brethren  follow, 


88 


EGYPT. 


and  become  appendages  of  the  charity  which  has 
sent  them  a better  faith.  If  two  or  three  generations 
of  intelligent  and  self-reliant  ancestors  lay  behind 
them,  they  might  be  able  to  defy  and  conquer  the 
native  prejudice;  but  they  are  generally  pioneers 
without  daring,  reformers  who  only  move  ns  they  are 
pushed. 

From  the  higher  ground  near  Senoris,  one  gets  the 
first  view  of  the  eastern  part  of  the  lake.  Here  the 
second  plateau  of  the  Fyoom  falls  away,  and  the 
streams  flow  in  actual  valleys  which  must  have  been 
original  depressions  of  the  soil.  The  Birket  el-Korti 
(Lake  of  the  Horn),  as  it  is  now  called  on  account  of 
its  curved  form  and  pointed  ends,  was  not  the  ancient 
Lake  Moeris.  The  site  of  the  latter  has  been  defi- 
nitely fixed  by  the  researches  of  M.  Linant,  its  nearly 
obliterated  outline  corresponding  with  the  descriptions 
given  by  Herodotus  and  Strabo.  It  was  an  immense 
artificial  lake  with  shores  of  masonry  and  dyked  earth, 
occupying  the  southeastern  part  of  the  higher  plateau 
of  the  Fyoom.  The  village  of  Biahmoo  stands  at  its 
northwestern  corner.  Its  circumference  was  nearly 
thirty  miles,  whence  it  wras  fully  able  to  store  up  water 
from  the  fat  years  of  inundation  for  any  lean  years 
that  might  follow,  the  overplus  being  easily  discharged 
into  the  Lake  of  the  Horn,  the  level  of  which  is  con- 
siderably below  that  of  the  Nile.  No  wonder  that 
Herodotus  pronounced  this  lake  one  of  the  most  mar- 
vellous things  he  saw  in  Egypt ! 

King  Amenemha  III.  of  the  Twelfth  Dynasty  ap- 
pears, from  the  inscriptions  belonging  to  his  reign, 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


89 


to  have  been  the  creator  of  Lake  Moeris.  This  would 
fix  the  date  of  its  construction  at  about  3000  B.  C., 
several  centuries  before  Abraham’s  visit  to  Egypt. 
Let  us  no  longer  marvel  at  the  Roman  aqueducts  or 
boast  about  the  Croton  or  Cochituate,  or  even  the 
Chicago  Tunnel!  Not  one  engineering  exploit  since 
the  days  of  King  Amenemha  has  equalled  his,  in  dar- 
ing and  grandeur  ; and  the  evidence  of  successful  con- 
struction is  furnished  by  the  fact  that  it  was  still  per- 
fect two  thousand  five  hundred  years  after  its  comple- 
tion. 

We  left  Senoris  at  noon,  taking  a westward  course 
along  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  parallel  to  the  lake 
shore.  Mr.  Harvey  ordered  his  donkey,  and  accom- 
panied us,  and  his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  lan- 
guage and  habits  of  the  people  made  the  companion- 
ship doubly  valuable.  I could  not  shake  off  the  im- 
pression that  I was  somewhere  in  Central  Africa,  in- 
stead of  within  such  easy  reach  of  Cairo  : only  out  of 
Ethiopia  could  I call  similar  landscapes  to  mind.  The 
hollows  were  deep  in  lush  vegetation ; the  dry  ridges 
were  clothed  with  thickets  of  euphorbia;  besides 
palms,  acacias,  and  sont  trees,  the  cactus  rose  with  a 
huge  trunk  and  spreading  arms,  and  along  the  clear, 
rapid  streams  there  were  generally  more  reeds  and 
rushes  than  one  finds  on  the  borders  of  the  Nile.  One 
valley  which  we  crossed  was  surprisingly  picturesque. 
Its  broad,  winding  bed  lay  a hundred  feet  below  the 
level  of  the  plateau.  Half-way  down  there  was  a 
sheikh’s  tomb,  beside  a grove  of  immense  tamarisk- 
trees;  after  crossing  the  water  the  path  climbed  along 


go 


EGYPT. 


the  edge  of  clay  bluffs  and  gained  a height  whence  the 
green  plain  to  the  north  and  the  glimmer  of  the  lake 
became  visible. 

We  met  two  Fellahs  of  the  better  class,  riding  upon 
donkeys,  and  one  of  them  cried  out  as  he  approached: 
“ O stranger,  help  us  if  you  can  ! — say  something  to 
the  rulers  that  will  persuade  them  to  relieve  us  from 
oppression  ! ’’  The  man  spoke  in  good  faith, — partly, 
no  doubt,  from  a natural  belief  among  the  people  that 
the  Khedive  is  more  susceptible  to  foreign  than  to 
native  influences.  Oppressive  taxation,  with  lack  of 
order  and  justice,  certainly  exist ; but  nothing  could 
have  so  illustrated  the  conscious  helplessness  of  the 
people  as  such  an  appeal  to  an  unknown  Frank.  Alas, 
for  the  Orientals  ! They  get  but  scanty  justice,  I fear, 
even  from  us : we  praise  the  rulers  who  keep  them 
abject  and  ignorant,  and  then  revile  the  people  be- 
cause they  are  not  manly  and  intelligent. 

We  rode  onward  between  orchards  of  the  fruit-bear- 
ing cactus,  which  also  serve  as  supports  for  magnifi- 
cent grape-vines.  Nowhere  in  Egypt  do  the  grape 
and  the  olive  flourish  as  in  theFyoom:  the  markets 
of  Cairo,  in  the  season,  are  supplied  from  here. 
There  was  a quaint  village  perched  on  a rise,  with  a 
bright  pond  of  water,  on  which  wild-ducks  were 
swimming,  in  the  hollow  below.  Some  venerable 
fathers  and  mothers  of  the  hamlet,  half-dozing  in  the 
shade,  woke  up  and  greeted  us  quite  cordially.  My 
friends  tried  their  pistols  on  the  ducks,  without  suc- 
cess, unless  the  amusement  of  the  wild  brown  chil- 
dren might  be  considered  such.  Not  one  of  the  latter 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


9i 

begged  of  us:  in  fact,  the  word  “backsheesh!”  is 
unused  throughout  the  whole  of  the  Fyoom. 

As  we  drew  westward,  the  palm-groves  increased 
in  frequency  and  stately  height;  and  they,  with  the 
cactus-vineyards  between,  made  the  path  a shady 
lane,  delightful  to  traverse.  In  two  hours,  or  more, 
after  leaving  Senoris,  we  reached  the  curious  village 
of  Fiddimeen,  which  is  built  along  the  opposite  banks 
of  a deep  glen,  one  side  being  Coptic  and  the  other 
Moslem.  From  the  edge  of  the  stream  to  the  sum- 
mits of  the  high,  sinuous  ridges  on  either  side,  palm- 
trees  grow  like  a natural  forest.  As  I looked  down, 
over  the  masses  of  mud  towers,  bastions,  and  flat 
domes,  the  groups  of  people  passing  to  and  fro  be- 
side the  water,  and  all  the  minor  features  of  the  fan- 
tastic place,  I felt  inclined  to  ask:  “ How  much  fur- 
ther is  it  to  Timbuktoo  ? ” 

We  did  not  enter  the  town,  but  turned  off  to  the 
right  between  walled  gardens,  and  presently  issued 
upon  a broad,  breezy  hill,  sandy  in  patches,  but  still 
bearing  fair  fields  of  grain.  The  glen  of  Fiddimeen 
lay  on  our  left,  showing  the  vivid  gloss  of  orange  and 
lemon  orchards  under  the  crowns  of  its  thousands  of 
palms.  Then,  slowly,  all  the  lower  land  between  us 
and  the  lake  came  into  view,  the  long  blue  sheet  of 
the  lake  itself,  and  the  rosy  slopes  of  the  bare  moun- 
tains beyond  it.  On  one  side,  many  a square  league 
of  glorious  harvest-land;  on  the  other,  everlasting 
barrenness,  yet  life  could  have  no  lovelier  frame. 
The  Birket  el-Korn,  is  thirty-five  miles  in  length,  and 
seven  in  its  greatest  breadth  ; so  that  our  view,  em- 


92 


EGYPT. 


bracing  nearly  its  whole  extent,  was  as  broad  as  that 
from  the  Great  Pyramid,  and  much  more  beautiful. 

The  village  of  Senhoor,  our  destination,  was  seated 
on  a projecting  spur  of  the  plateau,  still  separated 
from  us  by  the  glen  of  Fiddimeen.  Descending  into 
the  latter,  we  found  it  spanned  by  a lofty  dam  of  ma- 
sory  which  had  given  way  in  the  centre,  the  ruins 
meeting  in  a tottering  bridge,  over  which  we  rode. 
This  was  Moslem  (it  might  have  been  American  !)  en- 
gineering : King  Amenemha  would  have  cut  off  the 
builder’s  head.  All  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  al- 
though bare  of  turf,  was  delightfully  shaded  with  large 
trees,  and  as  we  wound  through  them  towards  Sen- 
hoor, two  Frank  ladies  advanced  to  meet  us.  It  was 
the  missionary’s  wife,  who  had  returned  from  Medee- 
neh  soon  after  we  left  Senoris,  and  then,  taking  Miss 
Thompson  and  a palm-basket  of  provisions  with  her, 
had  preceded  us  by  a shorter  road.  Thirty  miles  on 
horseback  already,  and  the  prospect  of  ten  or  fifteen 
more,  could  not  take  away  an  atom  from  her  cordial 
welcome.  We  re-formed  in  a new  and  much  more 
picturesque  procession,  and  created  quite  a stir  of 
excitement  as  we  entered  the  village. 

Senhoor  is  raised  upon  such  lofty  piles  of  ruin  that 
there  must  have  been  a town  there,  at  least  five  thou- 
sand years  ago.  A part  of  it  is  again  falling  into  de- 
cay: we  passed  through  streets  where  there  were 
empty,  roofless  walls  on  one  side,  and  swarming  hab- 
itations on  the  other.  In  Egypt,  one  might  almost 
say,  there  is  a mud-hut  barometer,  building  up  in 
prosperity,  and  letting  fall  in  a season  of  want.  The 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM.  93 

more  frequent  these  fluctuations,  the  more  rapidly  the 
basis,  or  pedestal,  of  the  village  is  elevated  ; and  va- 
riations from  the  general  average  would  indicate  the 
particular  fortune  of  each  locality.  This  is  a hint 
which  I offer  to  the  archaeologists.  At  Senhoor,  I feel 
convinced,  a tunnel  cut  through  the  lowest  stratum 
might  well  repay  the  expense.  After  Medeeneh,  it  is 
perhaps  the  most  central  and  commanding  position 
in  the  Fyoom;  and  the  obelisk  of  Osirtasen  I.  (first 
king  of  the  Twelfth  Dynasty),  no  less  than  the  enor- 
mous undertaking  of  Lake  Mceris,  show  that  the 
province  must  have  been  inhabited  long  before  that 
date. 

At  the  very  end  of  the  town  we  came  upon  mounds  of 
debris  loftier  than  any  house  in  it,  and  climbed  to  the 
summit  to  enjoy  the  far,  sunny  prospects.  Below,  at 
the  foot  of  the  mound,  stood  the  dismantled  gateway 
of  some  old  Saracenic  palace,  rich  with  carvings  and 
horse-shoe  arches ; away  to  the  west  rose  the  tall, 
smoking  chimney  of  the  Khedive’s  sugar  refinery  at 
Nezleh.  It  was  a confusing  jumble  of  old  history  and 
modern  science  ; but  the  perfect  day  united  all  con- 
tradictions in  one  harmonious  blending  of  form  and 
color.  After  all,  there  is  a great  deal  of  humbug  in 
the  assumption  that  old  historic  associations  are  dis- 
turbed, or  put  to  flight,  by  the  intrusion  of  modern 
(and  hence,  of  course,  prosaic)  features,  in  a land- 
scape. I rather  fancy,  that  the  mind  which  cannot 
retain  such  associations  in  the  presence  of  steam-en- 
gines and  stove-pipe  hats,  is  but  weakly  receptive  of 
them.  To  be  consistent,  the  sentimental  tourist 


94 


EGYPT. 


should  only  appear  in  toga  and  sandals,  and  cry  out 
“ ai ! ” or  “ eheu  ! ” instead  of  “alas!”  and  “ah, 
woe!”  Pray  understand  me;  the  sentiment  is  natu- 
ral and  manly,  and  I do  not  respect  the  man  who  dis- 
claims it;  but,  if  it  be  genuine,  it  will  not  be  neutral- 
ized by  the  inevitable,  the  beneficent  changes  of  time. 

The  Senhoorites  gathered  gradually  and  formed  a 
wide,  irregular  ring  about  the  foot  of  the  mound, 
while  we  delayed  upon  the  breezy  summit.  When  we  i 
finally  descended  to  where  our  animals  were  waiting 
in  the  shade  of  a mud  wall,  a tall,  dignified  native,  in  a 
white  turban  and  blue  caftan,  came  and  saluted  me, 
when  he  presently  asked : “ Will  you  go  to  your 
house?”  I had  quite  forgotten  the  old,  once-familiar 
form  of  Oriental  courtesy,  and  gave  a literal  answer; 
but  Mr.  Harvey  quietly  suggested  the  true  meaning, 
which  was,  “Will  you  come  to  my  house?”  The 
native  gentleman  insisted,  furthermore,  that  we  should 
all  pass  the  night  under  his  roof ; and  his  invitation 
was  so  warm  and  persistent  that  it  was  rather  an  em- 
barrassment to  decline.  Then  we  must  accept  a din- 
ner—at  least  a schowrmeh,  or  sheep  roasted  whole ; 
but  we  finally  compromised,  with  some  little  difficulty, 
on  coffee.  He  led  the  way,  and  we  followed,  with  the 
usual  procession  of  idlers  behind  us.  Down  to  the 
edge  of  the  lower  plain,  over  capes  and  promontories 
of  rubbish,  through  gardens  and  orchards  went  the 
way,  .until,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  town,  we  found 
an  open  space,  walled  on  two  sides,  and  with  a fine 
sculptured  portal  of  stone  leading  to  an  inner  court- 
yard. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


95 


Our  host  called  himself  the  sheikh  el-belled,  or  vil- 
lage magistrate,  and  a younger  man,  pale  and  sombre 
of  face,  whom  I took  to  be  his  brother,  kept  always 
at  his  side.  On  either  side  of  the  portal  were  wicker 
boxes,  which  might  serve  either  as  chicken-coops  or 
sofas,  and  upon  these  we  took  our  seats.  The  ladies 
boldly  entered  the  inner  court — a privilege  which  we 
could  not  help  but  envy, — and  made  their  way  to  the 
magistrate’s  harem.  Coffee  was  served,  I gave  cigars 
to  the  magistrate  and  his  supposed  brother,  and  there 
was  some  conversation— 

“ But  over  all  there  hung  a shade  of  fear  ; 

A sense  of  mystery  the  spirit  daunted.” 

The  ladies  came  back,  omitting  nothing  in  phrase  or 
manner  demanded  by  Moslem  courtesy  ; the  invita- 
tion was  renewed,  yet  with  an  earnestness  which, 
somehow,  made  me  anxious  to  escape  it ; coffee  was 
served  a second  time,  and  after  profuse  and  hollow 
compliments  we  took  our  leave. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  riding  up  the  glen  of  Fid- 
dimeen,  our  native  attendants  explained  the  apparent 
mystery.  The  real  magistrate  of  Senhoor  was  not  the 
man  who  had  represented  himself  to  us  as  such,  but 
the  pale,  sombre-faced  young  man  who  sat  beside  him. 
A year  ago,  the  father  of  the  latter,  riding  up  the 
glen  on  his  way  to  Medeeneh,  to  attend  certain  fes- 
tivities of  the  Khedive  at  Cairo,  was  shot  by  an  am- 
bushed assassin.  Suspicion  fell  upon  a neighboring 
magistrate,  an  enemy  of  the  family,  but  all  direct 
evidence  of  guilt  was  wanting.  Nevertheless,  a month 


g6 


EGYPT. 


or  two  later,  the  suspected  man  was  murdered  in  turn, 
and  this  time  there  was  some  indirect  evidence  which 
pointed  towards  the  son  of  the  first  victim,  the  pale 
young  man  we  had  seen.  He  was  arrested  and  im- 
prisoned ; then,  after  a preliminary  examination,  re- 
leased on  bail,  and  was  now  awaiting  his  trial.  For 
this  reason,  he  had  felt  a delicacy  about  inviting  us 
personally,  and  therefore  commissioned  a friend  (not 
a brother)  to  assume  the  title  of  magistrate  and  enter- 
tain us  in  his  stead  ! 

It  was  a curious  story  and  suggested  a number  of 
morals,  which  I will  not  declare,  since  they  must  be 
evident  to  every  thinking  reader.  The  acceptance  of 
the  hospitality  would  have  been  an  uncanny  experi- 
ence ; yet  the  ghost  of  the  crime  already  sat  over  the 
hospitable  portal,  and  prevented  our  entering.  The 
people  who  followed  us  talked  very  freely  about  the 
matter  : they  were  not  particularly  shocked,  although 
they  seemed  to  regret  that  the  ways  were  not  so  secure 
as  under  the  regime  of  Said  Pasha.  But  the  picture 
of  that  pale,  sombre  young  man,  sitting  beside  the 
stately  portal  of  his  own  house  and  permitting  another 
to  play  the  part  of  its  master,  haunted  me  for  a long 
time. 

Long  before  the  tale  was  finished  we  had  entered 
the  deep,  winding  valley  of  Fiddimeen,  which  we  fol- 
lowed up  to  its  divided,  double-religioned  town.  Any 
valley — except  it  be  a cloven  gorge  of  the  desert  hills 
— is  a phenomenon  in  Egypt.  But  here  we  followed 
the  course  of  leaping,  plashing  waters,  and  the  hills  on 
either  side  were  dark  with  rustling  palm-trees,  and  by 


A TRIP  TO  TIIE  FYOOM. 


97 


and  by  the  orange  gardens  and  vineyards  swept  down 
from  the  heights,  bringing  odor,  color  and  shade  in 
one  superb  flood.  Perhaps  I seem  to  make  too  much 
of  so  simple  a feature  ; but  whatever  violates  the  broad, 
natural  conditions  of  a country,  always  surprises  and 
charms.  Moreover,  the  Fyoom  is  so  accessible,  yet 
so  unknown  ! 

The  town  of  Fiddimeen  is  even  more  picturesque 
seen  from  below  than  from  above.  There  was  a sort 
of  market  or  exchange  of  commodities,  on  the  Moslem 
side,  over  a bare  slope  below  the  houses ; the  Copts 
came  over  and  mingled  peacefully  with  their  neigh- 
bors, and  we,  fraternizing  with  neither  (except  in  a 
purely  human  sense),  received  greetings  which  were 
entirely  friendly.  Mr.  Harvey  led  the  way  to  the  top 
of  the  ridge,  and  there  took  temporary  possession  of  a 
Moslem  cactus-orchard,  which  gave  at  least  dabs  or 
shovelfuls"  of  shade  from  its  spatulate  leaves;  the 
owner’s  wife  brought  us  water-bottles,  and  the  owner 
himself  kept  away  the  curious  children.  It  was  a pic- 
turesque lunch  in  every  sense:  three  anointed  and 
three  lay  Christians,  one  devout  and  several  indiffer- 
ent Musselmen,  a Copt  or  two,  and  overhead  a peace 
and  glory  in  the  sky  which  seemed  to  smile  at  mere 
symbolism,  and  to  acknowledge  the  native  instinct  of 
prayer,  worship  and  faith,  in  each.  The  noises  of  the 
village  were  unheard;  the  birds  sang  around  us,  and 
the  natives  kept  politely  out  of  sight  until  wc  had  fin- 
ished the  excellent  cold  fowls  and  nutritious  Fyoom 
bread  which  our  hosts— for  so  they  still  were — had 
brought  from  Senoris. 


gS 


EGYPT. 


It  was  harder  to  resist  a pressing  invitation  to  return 
with  the  latter ; but  we  were  obliged  to  decline,  for 
the  sake  of  seeing  another  part  of  the  Fyoom,  and  in- 
specting, if  possible,  an  obelisk  of  Osirtasen  I..  before 
returning  to  Cairo.  By  this  time  it  was  four  o’clock 
in  the  afternoon,  and  the  two  hours  of  daylight  which 
remained  would  barely  suffice  for  our  return  and  that 
of  our  friends  to  their  home  at  Senoris.  So  the  ani- 
mals were  collected,  cordial  adieus  were  said,  and  our 
temporary  caravan  divided  into  two  equal  parts  on  the 
western  brink  of  the  valley  of  Fiddimeen,  they  cross- 
ing to  the  road  by  which  we  had  come,  and  we  turning 
away  to  the  right,  over  the  upland.  The  two  patient 
and  cheerful  attendants  from  Medeeneh  ran  with  us 
encouraging  the  weary  mule  and  asses  ; the  day  was 
still  bright  and  mellow,  and,  although  I knew  that  our 
ride  of  thirty-five  miles  through  the  heart  of  the  Fy- 
oom had  enabled  us  to  overlook  and  comprehend 
the  character  of  the  region  we  had  not  traversed,  I 
sincerely  regretted  that  I had  not  brought  a tent  and 
a week’s  supplies,  so  as  to  have  deliberately  studied  the 
land  and  its  people.  The  circumstance  that  all  my 
forgotten  knowledge  of  Arabic — unused  for  twenty- 
two  years — had  returned,  and  restored,  as  by  a sort  of 
human  magic,  every  broken  link  of  sympathy  with  the 
people,  made  more  evident  how  much  I was  losing  by 
such  a hasty  visit.  But  man  may  be  man,  yet  not 
fully  “ master  of  his  fate.” 

We  returned  through  a lovely  country;  yet,  on 
leaving  the  edge  of  the  plateau  which  slopes  suddenly 
down  to  the  plains  bordering  the  Lake  of  the  Horn — 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


99 


following  the  streams  up  valleys  of  diminishing  depth, 
and  gaining  a more  uniform,  if  richer,  level  of  cultiva- 
tion— the  former  surprises  ceased.  I am  afraid  I paid 
more  attention  to  my  shifting  stirrups  and  the  pre- 
monitions of  coming  aches  than  to  the  promise  of  the 
rustling  grain-fields.  The  present  dimensions  of  the 
cultivated  part  of  the  Fyoom  are  about  thirty  by  twen- 
ty-five miles,  with  a population  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand.  In  the  old  days  of  Egypt  it  was  con- 
siderably larger ; for  at  the  western  extremity  of  the 
lake,  where  now  all  is  sand  and  gravel,  there  are  still 
important  ruins  of  Egyptian  and  Roman  temples,  with 
the  traces  of  fields  and  canals.  From  the  highest 
ridges  I saw  no  sign  of  mountains  to  the  westward  ; 
and  here,  as  wherever  water  is  carried,  the  earth  will 
produce  whatever  is  needed,  the  limits  of  the  habita- 
ble region  may  undoubtedly  be  extended  much  further 
in  that  direction.  The  supply  of  water  has  recently 
been  increased  by  feeding  the  Bahr-Youssef  with  a 
branch  canal  which  leaves  the  Nile  somewhere  near 
Siout ; but  one  result  thereof,  I was  told,  is  a rise  in 
the  surface  of  the  lake  and  the  flooding  of  lowlands 
heretofore  cultivated.  King  Amenetnha  avoided  this, 
when  he  made  Lake  Moeris,  and  there  seems  to  be  no 
remedy  but  in  a reservoir  which  shall  hoard  the  over- 
supply. 

We  passed  several  villages  on  the  way  ; the  path 
was  lively  with  groups  of  people,  coming  and  going  as 
the  sun  drew  near  his  setting.  The  approach  to 
Medeench,  along  the  banks  of  the  main  canal,  was 
unexpectedly  imposing:  it  might  have  been  Bagdad 


xoo 


EGYPT. 


and  a branch  of  the  Tigris.  But  I was  too  weary,  by 
this  time,  to  feel  more  than  the  mechanical  satisfac- 
tion of  the  eye.  On  approaching  the  gate  of  the  city, 
we  despatched  Hassan  to  his  Moslem  friend,  the  cook, 
with  an  order  for  fried  fish  from  the  lake,  and  followed 
the  irregular  outer  wall  southward  and  eastward  along 
the  edge  of  a wide  pool  which  reflected  the  sunset, 
until  the  grooms  advised  me  that  we  were  near  the 
school  of  Tadrus. 

I made  my  way  to  the  upper  terrace,  thinking  to 
surprise  that  “ mild-eyed,  melancholy  ” custodian  ; 
but  it  was  myself  who  was  surprised.  The  kerosene 
lamp  was  lighted  in  the  room  we  had  occupied;  at 
the  table,  engaged  in  counting  a pile  of  copper  coins, 
sat  a handsome,  fair-faced,  and  dark-eyed  Coptic 
lady.  Seeing  me,  she  rose,  greeted  me  in  a musical 
voice,  came  forward  with  an  easy  grace,  took  my 
hand,  and  kissed  it  before  I could  reverse  the  compli- 
ment. “I  am  Mariam,”  she  said,  in  Arabic;  “I 
teach  sthe  girls  here,  but  would  not  have  kept  the 
apartment  so  long,  had  I not  supposed  that  you  would 
stay  at  Senoris.”  She  despatched  Moses  in  search  of 
Tadrus,  and  left  when  the  latter  arrived ; yet  I should 
have  preferred  to  continue  a conversation  carried  on 
with  so  much  frankness  and  cheerfulness,  on  her  side. 
Tadrus  half  sighed  as  he  said  that  probably  no  one 
would  ever  seek  her  in  marriage,  the  prejudice  against 
converts  to  Protestantism  being  so  great  among  the 
Copts.  Nevertheless,  she  seemed  to  be  a thoroughly 
bright  and  happy  nature.  Two  young  Coptic  gentle- 
men (not  converts)  visited  us  during  the  evening. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


ioi 


They  had  been  partly  educated  at  the  Mission  School, 
and  were  not  a little  proud  of  their  smattering  of 
English.  Such  as  these  must  in  time  break  down  the 
prejudices  of  the  sect. 

After  the  long  day’s  journey,  the  Fellah  saddle  and 
the  sliding  stirrups,  I found  the  divan  cushioned  with 
aches,  and  arose  in  the  morning  with  such  a feeling 
of  decrepitude  that  my  first  thought  was  to  discover 
a sufficient  reason  for  not  visiting  the  obelisk  of  Osir- 
tasen  I.,  two  or  three  miles  to  the  southward  of  the 
town.  Tadrus  soon  furnished  one.  The  obelisk,  he 
said,  lay  prostrate  in  the  midst  of  a cultivated  field ; 
it  was  wholly  covered  with  earth,  except  a space  of  a 
yard  or  so  in  the  centre,  where  some  hieroglyphics — 
the  king’s  name,  he  supposed — were  visible.  Now,  as 
I had  already  seen  the  nomen  of  Osirtasen  I.  on  the 
obelisk  of  Heliopolis,  there  was  no  necessity  for  taking 
taking  such  pains  to  behold  that  again — and  nothing 
more.  As  for  the  famous  Labyrinth,  the  site  whereof 
is  marked  by  the  brick  pyramid  of  Hawarah,  abso- 
lutely nothing  is  left.  The  believers  in  the  Ichneumon 
appear  to  have  cut  it  up,  root  and  branch.  In  fact, 
the  probable  area  can  only  be  guessed  from  greater 
ridges  of  broken  granite  and  limestone  fragments.  It 
is  difficult  to  understand  the  astonishment  of  Herod- 
otus at  its  magnitude,  and  his  statement  of  its  three 
thousand  chambers  seems  (in  spite  of  his  honesty  as  a 
narrator)  to  be  hugely  exaggerated.  But  the  Croco- 
dile was  thoroughly  suppressed,  and  to  this  day  the 
sacred  reptile  never  shows  himself  in  the  Fyoom. 

It  was  such  a dazzling  morning — everything  that  we 


102 


EGYPT. 


saw  from  the  roofs  or  the  streets,  or  the  winding  banks 
of  Joseph’s  River,  was  so  sunny  and  beautiful  that  I 
was  tempted  to  “invite  my  soul”  to  lounge  there  for 
the  day.  My  companions,  however,  were  too  young 
and  too  American  for  such  an  experiment ; and,  be- 
sides, the  idleness  of  a railway-car,  with  its  flying  pan- 
oramas, was  nearly  as  good  an  indulgence.  Tadrus 
and  his  Coptic  friends  accompanied  us  to  the  track 
outside  the  town,  and  waited  patiently  until  the  loco- 
motive made  up  its  mind  to  start.  There  was  no  ap- 
pointed time  of  departure,  in  fact ; nor  was  it  neces- 
sary, since  we  had  an  indefinite  margin  of  from  two  to 
four  hours  at  El  Wasta.  I could  not  understand  why 
I should  pay  more  for  a ticket  to  return  than  for  one 
to  come;  but,  since  the  ticket-seller  said:  “ I am  en- 
titled to  something  more,  and  you  see  it  is  not  a great 
deal,”  I suppose  it  was  right. 

On  approaching  the  ravine  along  the  eastern  edge 
of  the  Fyoom,  I looked  for  signs  of  an  ancient  Egyp- 
tian dyke,  which  Mr.  Harvey  informed  me  were  visible 
if  one  knew  where  to  look  for  them,  but  cannot  be  sure 
that  I really  saw  them.  That  the  ravine  was  thus 
dyked,  however,  is  almost  certain,  if,  indeed,  it  was  not 
originally  an  artificial  canal  connected  with  Lake 
Mceris.  At  El  Edwa  there  was  a small  fair,  or  market- 
day,  and  many  dark  Bedouins  who  camp  on  the  bar- 
ren outskirts  of  the  province,  had  come  together  with 
their  sheep  and  camels.  They  gazed  upon  us  with 
stony,  silent  curiosity,  while  the  train  halted;  the 
boys  gathered  nearer,  but  started  back,  in  real  or 
feigned  alarm,  whenever  one  of  us  made  a movement. 


A TRIP  TO  THE  FYOOM. 


103 


Their  eyes  were  as  the  eyes  of  doves  by  the  rivers  of 
waters,  washed  with  milk  ; and  their  teeth  like  flocks 
of  lambs  that  are  even  shorn,  which  come  up  from 
the  washing. 

We  had  another  inspiring  ride  across  the  isthmus 
of  desert;  blue  lakes  of  the  mirage  glittered  in  the 
hollows,  the  pure  north-wind  made  the  sand  dance 
and  vibrate  along  the  crests  of  the  ridges,  and  my 
eyes  so  adjusted  themselves  to  the  direct  and  reflected 
sunshine  that  the  first  glimpse  of  the  deep  Nile-green, 
through  a gap  in  the  hills,  was  like  the  loom  of  a 
thunder-cloud.  The  cry  of  “ backsheesh  ! ” which 
we  had  not  once  heard  since  leaving  El  Wasta,  was 
waiting  for  our  return,  and  for  six  hours  (so  long  de- 
layed, the  one  daily  train  from  above!)  the  ravenous 
imps  tormented  us.  The  last  gleam  of  sunset  struck 
the  topmost  wedge  of  the  False  Pyramid  as  we  moved 
off  for  Cairo,  and  it  was  nearly  midnight  under  the 
cold,  cold  moon,  when  the  train  reached  the  station 
of  Boolak-Dakrour. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  EGYPTIAN  ANTIQUITIES  AT  BOOLAK. 

Cairo,  April  3. 

IN  the  beginning  of  November,  1851,  as  I was  slowly 
plodding  along  on  a donkey,  over  the  sandy  spurs 
of  the  Desert  between  the  Pyramids  and  Sakkara,  the 
Fellahs  who  accompanied  me  had  much  to  say  of  a 
strange  Frank,  who  had  hired  people  to  dig  holes  in 
the  earth  in  the  hope  of  finding  golden  chickens.  I 
paid  no  great  attention  to  these  stories  until,  on  reach- 
ing the  sandy  plateau  behind  the  village  of  Mitrahenny 
(the  site  of  ancient  Memphis),  I saw  a number  of  Arabs 
carrying  sand  in  baskets,  and  my  donkey-drivers  cried 
out,  “There  is  the  Frank!”  On  the  brink  of  the 
excavation,  overlooking  the  workmen,  stood  a man  of 
twenty-eight  to  thirty  years  of  age,  tall,  blond,  terri- 
bly sunburnt,  and  apparently  worn  with  exposure  and 
the  endless  annoyances  of  his  task.  I approached 
him,  and  entered  into  conversation.  He  was  French, 
and  seemed  a little  reserved  in  his  manner,  until  the 
accidental  mention  of  my  being  an  American  and  not 
an  Englishman  restored  his  confidence  and  communi- 
cativeness. We  descended  the  excavation,  walked  two 
hundred  yards  in  one  of  the  exhumed  streets  of  Mem- 
phis, and  there  I learned  of  the  magnitude  of  the  dis- 
coveries he  had  already  made.  Few  men  have  ever 


EGYPTIAN  ANTIQUITIES  A T BOOLAK.  105 


given  me  such  an  impression  of  patient  enthusiasm. 
At  that  time  only  a few  scholars  knew  of  his  labors, 
and  when  he  wrote  in  my  note-book  the  name  “Au- 
guste Mariette”  it  was  as  new  to  me  as  to  the  world 
at  large. 

Since  then  there  has  been  no  pause  in  M.  Mari- 
ette’s  devotion  to  his  self-imposed  task.  He  was  at 
first  supported  by  contributions  from  France — very  in- 
adequate and  irregular,  I suspect — and  was  obliged  to 
work  without  the  favor  of  the  Egyptian  Government, 
if  not  covertly  opposed  by  the  influence  of  England. 
European  diplomacy  in  the  East  moves  in  ways  that 
are  dark  and  oftentimes  contemp — (rather  let  me 
finish  the  word  otherwise) — lative.  During  the  reign 
of  Abbas  Pasha,  M.  Mariette  worked  steadily  against 
discouragements : under  Said  Pasha  there  came  a 
new  if  incomplete  freedom ; and  finally  the  Khedive, 
Ismail  Pasha,  has  turned  the  dauntless  archaeologist 
into  Mariette  Bey,  “Director  of  the  Department  for 
the  Preservation  of  the  Antiquities  of  Egypt,”  grant- 
ed him  an  annual  sum  for  the  prosecution  of  his  re- 
searches, founded  an  Egyptian  Museum  at  Boolak, 
and  promises  further  support,  which  may  be  given  in 
case  no  more  viceregal  marriages  take  place  within 
the  next  few  years. 

Knowing  how  ruthlessly  Egypt  has  been  plundered, 
since  the  days  of  Denon — what  obelisks,  statues  and 
sarcophagi  have  been  conveyed  to  London,  Paris,  and 
Berlin — how  Belzoni,  Lepsius,  Abbott,  and  many 
others  have  rummaged  temples,  tombs,  and  pyramids 
for  the  sake  of  their  pockets  and  button-holes,  and. 


io6 


EGYPT. 


moreover,  how  the  rage  of  Winter  tourists  for  relics 
has  not  only  exhausted  the  legitimate  supply  of  scara- 
boei,  papyri,  and  pottery,  but  given  rise  to  a manufac- 
ture of  new  articles  of  the  sort, — I was  prepared  to 
find  the  Museum  at  Boolak  only  a depository  of  cast- 
away odds  and  ends,  as  confused  and  unsatisfactory 
as  the  collections  you  see  in  the  Louvre  or  the  British 
and  Berlin  Museums.  These  latter,  every  traveller 
knows,  are  not  Egypt,  any  more  than  an  old  Roman 
brick  is  a part  of  the  majesty  of  the  Coliseum.  But 
I never  quite  understood  their  lack  of  interest,  even 
to  one  who  has  seen  Denderah  and  Karnak,  until  the 
ex:act  historical  arrangement  of  Mariette’s  collection 
had  opened  my  eyes. 

Now — one  can  say  without  fear  of  contradiction — 
the  most  valuable  Egyptian  Museum  in  the  world  is 
in  Cairo.  That  which  was  previously  carried  away 
being,  for  the  most  part,  easily  accessible,  proves  to 
belong  to  the  later  rather  than  the  earlier  dynasties. 
Unwearied  digging  has  enabled  Mariette  to  reach  the 
records  of  the  Ancient  Empire,  and  to  show — what  we 
never  before  suspected— that  the  glory  of  Egyptian 
Art  belongs  to  the  age  of  Cheops,  and  only  its  deca- 
dence to  the  age  of  Rameses  II.  (Sesostris).  Not  only 
the  Art,  but  the  Culture,  the  Religion,  the  political 
organization  of  Egypt  are  carried  back  to  the  Third 
Dynasty  (4450  B.C.),  and  Menes,  the  first  historic 
king,  dawns  upon  our  knowledge,  not  as  a primitive 
barbarian,  but  as  the  result  of  a long  stage  of  unre- 
corded development.  I do  not  hesitate  to  say  that 
since  Champollion  discovered  the  key  to  the  hiero- 


EGYPTIAN  ANTIQUITIES  A T BOOLAK.  107 


glyphics,  no  scholar  has  thrown  such  a broad  and  clear 
light  upon  Egyptian  life  and  history  as  Mariette.  It 
is  understood  that  the  Museum  at  Boolak  is  only  tem- 
porary. It  hardly  contains  half  of  the  inestimable  col- 
lection, and  some  of  the  halls,  undermined  by  the  cur- 
rent of  the  Nile,  have  already  been  vacated,  in  order 
to  preserve  their  contents.  The  Khedive  promises  a 
spacious  and  appropriate  building,  fronting  on  the 
great  square  of  the  Ezbekeeyeh,  and  he  cannot  have  it 
erected  too  soon.  It  makes  one  shudder  to  think 
what  irreplaceable  wealth  is  accumulated  between 
those  low  mud  walls  at  Boolak,  and  how  easily  some 
accident  might  lose  it  to  the  world. 

There  has  been  so  much  discussion  in  regard  to  the 
chronology  of  Ancient  Egypt,  that  a few  words  on  this 
point  may  be  an  advantage  to  the  reader,  in  perusing 
the  brief  account  which  I must  necessarily  give  of  the 
more  ancient  monuments.  Let  me,  therefore,  repeat 
what  many  already  know,  and  some  may  have  forgot- 
ten, that  our  only  former  authority  was  Manetho,  an 
Egyptian  priest,  who  lived  under  the  Ptolemies,  Soter, 
and  Philadelphus,  in  the  beginning  of  the  third  cen- 
tury before  Christ.  He  wrote,  in  Greek,  a complete 
History  of  Egypt,  compiled  from  the  records  preserved 
in  the  Temples  of  Memphis  and  Heliopolis.  This 
work,  which  is  quoted  by  Josephus,  Eusebius,  and 
other  authors,  is  unfortunately  lost,  except  a chrono- 
logical table  of  thirty  dynasties,  beginning  with 
Menes,  and  terminating  with  the  invasion  of  Egypt  by 
the  Persians.  Manetho’s  table  gives  the  names  of  the 
kings  and  the  length  of  their  reigns ; and  the  sum 


ioS 


EGYPT. 


total  is  so  immense,  carrying  the  duration  of  the  Egyp- 
tian Empire  to  such  a remote  point  in  the  past,  'that 
most  scholars  have  shrunk  from  accepting  it,  prefer- 
ring to  suppose  that  a number  of  the  dynasties  were 
cotemporaneous  (that  is,  existing  side  by  side  in  Up- 
per and  Lower  Egypt),  and  not  successive. 

For  the  sake  of  convenience  I will  take  Mariette’s 
division  of  the  dynasties  into  historic  periods,  together 
with  the  dates  conjecturally  given  for  the  commence- 
ment of  each,  by  the  older  scholars,  by  Bunsen,  and 
finally  by  Manetho  and  Mariette  : 


Wilkinson. 


Dynasties. 

Poole,  etc. 

Bunsen. 

Manetho. 

Ancient  Empire. 

. I.  toX. 

2700  B.  c. 

3623  b.  c. 

5001  b.  c. 

Middle  Empire. . 

\ S'  } 

/ xvir.  ) 

2200  b.  c. 

2925  B.  c. 

3061  b.  c. 

Later  Empire.... 

\ 1 
( XXXI.  ) 

1520  B.  c. 

1025  b.  c. 

2703  b.  c. 

Greek  Euie 

re11-  L 

(xxxm  ( 

332  b.  c. 

332  B.  c. 

332  B.  c. 

Koman  Enle 

..XXXIV. 

30  B.  c. 

30  b.  c. 

30  B.  c. 

Edict  of  Theodosius,  introducing  Christianity,  3S1  A.  d. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  discrepancy,  which  is  less 
than  two  centuries,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Eight- 
eenth Dynasty  (that  of  the  Theban,  Amosis,  who 
expelled  the  Hyksos  or  Shepherd  Kings),  increases  to 
two  thousand  three  hundred  years  on  reaching  the 
fiist  historical  king,  Menes.  But  it  is  precisely  upon 
this  earlier  period  that  Mariette’s  discoveries  throw 
the  most  astonishing  light.  The  names  of  the  kings, 
their  order  of  succession,  and  the  length  of  their 


EG  YPTIAN  ANTIQUITIES  A T BOO  LA  K.  109 

reigns,  correspond  with  Manetho’s  table,  and  there  is 
no  evidence  of  any  two  dynasties,  among  those  re- 
corded, having  existed  side  by  side.  Although  fully 
aware  of  the  difficulties  which  may  be  created  by  this 
extension  of  Egyptian  chronology,  and  by  no  means 
inclined  to  accept  it  as  exact,  Mariette  frankly  ac- 
knowledges himself  unable  to  dispute  it.  I he  char- 
acter of  the  monuments,  now  for  the  first  time  prop- 
erly contrasted,  indicates  great  changes,  even  within 
the  rigid  boundaries  of  Egyptian  art ; and  these  are 
so  clearly  marked  that  the  age  of  a statue  or  sarcoph- 
agus may  often  be  approximately  estimated  before 
reading  the  inscriptions  upon  it.  In  short,  the  same 
process  of  study  and  critical  knowledge  of  details, 
heretofore  so  successfully  applied  to  Greek  and  Ro- 
man antiquities,  now  opens  a way  for  us  into  the  shad- 
ows of  the  mysterious  '“forty  centuries”  which  pass- 
ed over  Ancient  Egypt  before  our  synchronous  history 
begins. 

Enough  by  way  of  prelude.  On  reaching  the  Mu- 
seum at  Boolak,  which  is  free  to  all  visitors  except  on 
Fridays,  you  first  enter  a dusty  garden-court,  on  the 
high,  crumbling  bank  of  the  Nile,  with  a glimpse  of 
the  opposite  shore,  and  the  dim,  over-lapping  trian- 
gles of  the  Pyramids.  On  the  left  is  an  ordinary 
Turkish  dwelling,  the  residence  of  Mariette  Bey  ; on 
the  right  is  the  Museum,  a very  plain,  cheap  structure, 
but  so  admirably  arranged  that  its  treasures  can  be  at 
once  discovered  and  profitably  studied.  I saw  large 
square  granite  boxes  on  both  sides  of  the  entrance, 
and  was  about  to  pass  them  without  special  notice. 


no 


EGYPT. 


when  HerrBrugsch,  brother  of  the  Vice-Director,  said: 
“These  are  the  oldest  sarcophagi  yet  found.”  They 
were  of  the  Fourth  dynasty  (Cheops),  and  imposing 
from  their  very  simplicity — each  a mass  of  hollowed 
granite,  with  a flat  lid  having  two  square  projections 
at  each  end,  as  if  two  men  might  be  expected  to  take 
them  in  their  hands  and  thus  lift  off  the  cover.  One 
contained  the  words,  in  hieroglyphics,  on  each  of  the 
four  sides  : “ The  King’s  Son.” 

Mariette’s  collections  (that  is,  so  much  of  them  as 
there  is  room  to  exhibit)  are  arranged  in  seven  vesti- 
bules and  halls.  There  is  no  such  attempt  at  effect, 
as  in  the  Museum  in  Berlin,  where  the  frescoes  of  the 
Theban  tombs  are  imitated  on  the  walls,  and  a beau- 
tiful doorway,  violently  torn  from  its  original  place  by 
Lepsius,  is  stuck  together  again.  The  relics  are  sim- 
ply arranged  according  to  their  civil  or  religious  char- 
acter, those  of  the  earlier  dynasties  having  the  most 
conspicuous  places,  and  these  latter,  by  their  higher 
artistic  character,  are  the  first  objects  which  attract 
the  eye  on  entering.  There  are  plenty  of  statues  of 
the  gods,  coffins,  and  sarcophagi,  as  in  other  museums; 
yet,  towering  over  them,  instinct  with  life  and  charac- 
ter, are  those  marvellous  forms  of  carved  wood  or 
painted  limestone,  belonging  to  the  Third  and  Fourth 
dynasties,  which  flash  upon  us  a new  revelation  of  the 
oldest  civilization  of  Egypt.  No  other  statues  like 
these  have  yret  been  recovered : they  give  the  Museum 
a distinct  and  separate  value. 

In  the  court  there  are  three  statues  belonging  to 
an  age  from  which  no  other  monuments  have  been 


EG  YP  TIAN  ANTIQUITIES  A T BOO  LAN.  1 1 1 

found— that  of  the  Hyksos,  or  Shepherd  Kings,  whose 
invasion  of  Egypt  about  the  year  2200  B.  C.  (Mane- 
tho),  and  usurpation  of  the  government  for  nearly 
five  centuries,  are  sufficiently  attested  by  other  rec- 
ords. It  has  been  a matter  of  conjecture  who  these 
Shepherds  were,  and  few  archaeologists  could  have  been 
prepared  for  the  marked  Turanian  or  Tartar  type, 
which  is  so  distinctly  given  in  their  statues.  The  eyes 
are  long  and  narrow,  the  brows  prominent,  the  cheek- 
bones projecting,  the  mouth  large  and  wide,  and  the 
beard  thick  upon  the  jaws  and  chin.  They  arc  cer- 
tainly neither  Egyptian  nor  Semitic  : I have  seen  just 
such  faces  among  the  Calmucks,  in  Russia.  Two  of 
them  were  found  at  Tanis  (the  Zoan  ot  the  Old  Tes- 
tament) in  the  Delta,  and  the  third  in  the  Fyoom, 
which  shows  that  the  Hyksos  possessed  at  least  all 
Lower  Egypt.  They  have  been  savagely  battered 
and  mutilated,  probably  during  the  dynasty  which 
overthrew  the  rule  of  their  originals  ; but  the  hard 
dark  granite  still  holds  the  type  of  the  race.  If  the 
pre-Trojan  city  discovered  by  Dr.  Schliemann  should 
prove  also  to  have  had  Turanian  inhabitants,  heie 
would  be  a new  link,  of  the  highest  importance,  in 
the  chain  of  the  earliest  migrations. 

In  the  main  vestibule,  crowded  with  precious  rel- 
ics, I can  only  notice  those  extraordinary  specimens 
of  the  oldest  Egyptian  Art,  which  are  to  be  seen  no- 
where else  in  the  world.  The  eye  is  at  once  drawn  to 
two  life-sized  statues  of  painted  limestone,  which, 
from  their  pedestals,  seem  to  overlook  and  guard  the 
later  remains.  They  are  nude,  save  a cloth,  folded 


1 12 


EGYPT. 


in  front  like  an  apron,  which  falls  from  the  hips  to  the 
knees.  The  arms  and  legs  are  rather  stiffly  modelled, 
but  quite  free  from  the  conventional  rigidity  of  Egyp- 
tian statues.  Indeed,  the  hands,  feet,  and  joints  show 
a careful  study  not  only  of  nature,  but  also  of  the  in- 
dividual. The  trunks  are  excellently  rendered,  in 
their  main  masses,  like  the  half-finished  clay  model 
of  a modern  sculptor.  But  the  heads  are  simply 
amazing,  in  their  correct  embodiment  of  life  and 
character.  In  them  there  is  no  prescribed  solemnity 
of  expression,  in  closed  lips,  steadfast  eyes,  and  hands 
resting  flatly  on  the  knees,  as  in  the  statues  chiselled 
two  thousand  years  later.  They  beam  with  a frank, 
free,  naive  apprehension  of  Nature ; and  exhibit  the 
activity  of  an  Art  which  is  just  about  to  overcome  the 
last  stubborn  resistance  of  the  material.  There  is  no 
representation  of  motion,  as  in  the  crowning  days  of 
Greek  sculpture;  the  figures  stand  or  sit,  but  you 
feel  that  a slight  effort  would  enable  them  to  rise  or 
walk. 

One  of  the  statues  represents  a priest  named  Ra- 
Nefer,  another  a civil  official,  Till,  whose  tomb  still 
remains  entire  at  Memphis,  where  these  and  other 
similar  figures  of  smaller  dimensions  were  found.  The 
most  of  them  date  from  the  Fourth  or  Fifth  dynasties. 
The  colors  are  as  brilliant  as  if  but  yesterday  applied 
to  the  stone.  The  climate  of  Egypt  and  the  sand 
under  which  the  sepulchral  chambers  have  so  long 
been  buried,  seem  absolutely  to  prevent  decay,  and 
thus  these  most  ancient  recovered  monuments  appear 
to  be  modern  in  comparison  with  those  which  were 


EG  YP  TIAN  ANT/Q UITIES  A T BOOLAK.  1 1 3 


exposed  to  the  air.  In  1851,  shortly  after  my  meet- 
ing with  Mariette  at  Memphis,  he  discovered  the  un- 
violated tomb  of  an  Apis-bull.  On  first  entering,  he 
saw  upon  the  light  layer  of  dust  covering  the  floor  the 
distinct  footprints  of  the  men  who  had  placed  the 
mummy  in  his  sarcophagus,  3,700  years  before  ! 

Passing  on  to  the  main  hall,  the  first  objects  I 
sought  were  the  wooden  statues  belonging  to  the  Fourth 
dynasty  (that  of  Cheops,  about  4235  B.  C. ),  discov- 
ered not  long  since.  The  light  from  the  ceiling,  fall- 
ing on  the  close-cropped  crown  of  the  old  “village 
magistrate  ” ( sheikh  el-belled,  as  he  is  now  called  by 
the  Egyptians),  gave  him  the  reality  of  a living  figure, 
among  so  many  which  seemed  to  be  dead  or  asleep  in 
the  shadows.  The  statue,  about  three  feet  eight  inches 
in  height,  is  carved  out  of  sycamore  wood,  which  has 
now  become  hard  and  resonant  as  metal.  It  repre- 
sents a corpulent  man  of  about  forty-five  years  of  age, 
holding  in  one  hand  a long  staff  of  office,  while  the 
other,  clenched,  hangs  at  his  side.  His  only  garment 
is  a cloth  wound  around  the  loins  and  falling  to  the 
knees.  The  face  is  remarkably  intelligent,  cheerful 
and  benevolent — a Shakesperean  head,  one  might  say, 
it  gives  such  evidence  of  a large,  rich,  and  attractive 
nature.  The  nose  is  slightly  aquiline,  with  sensitive 
nostrils  of  only  moderate  breadth,  the  lips,  large  and 
half-smiling,  equally  ready  to  open  for  a joke  or  a 
blessing,  and  the  cheeks  and  chin  full,  but  firmly 
rounded  and  not  puffy.  The  eyes,  especially,  are  re- 
markable specimens  of  the  earliest  pre-Raphaelite  at- 
tempts to  represent  nature.  They  are  inserted,  and 


”4 


EGYPT. 


with  a finesse  of  invention  which  almost  seems  a 
higher  art.  The  lashes  are  thin  rims  of  bronze  ; the 
whites  are  formed  of  white  opaque  quartz,  the  iris  of 
rock  crystal,  and  in  the  centre  of  each  is  set  a small 
crystal  with  many  facets,  which  from  every  side  reflects 
a keen  point  of  light,  like  that  in  the  human  eye. 
Herr  Brugsch  said  to  me  : “ There  are  times  when 

this  head  absolutely  lives;  ” and  I could  well  believe 
him.  The  statue  is  probably  six  thousand  years  old, 
thus  antedating  by  three  thousand  seven  hundred 
years  all  other  relics  of  art  which  are  in  any  way 
worthy  of  being  placed  beside  it. 

There  are  two  other  heads  of  wood,  with  torsos,  of 
the  same  era— whether  broken  or  mutilated  I could 
not  ascertain.  One,  a woman,  possesses  the  same  dis- 
tinct individuality  as  the  good  and  just  magistrate. 
There  are  differences  in  the  two  sides  of  the  face,  which 
show  the  most  careful  study  of  the  original.  She  is 
neither  handsome  nor  ugly,  but  you  see  at  once  that 
she  was  no  ordinary  person,  and  that,  in  her  day,  you 
would  much  rather  have  had  her  for  a friend  than  an 
enemy. 

I will  hasten  through  two  intervening  chambers  to 
reach  what  impressed  me  as  the  most  interesting  group 
in  the  whole  collection.  It  was  found  only  eighteen 
months  ago,  in  an  ancient  necropolis,  beside  that 
singular  pile  of  masonry,  called  by  the  natives  the 
Haram  el-Kedab,  or  Lying  Pyramid,  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  Nile,  about  fifty  miles  south  of  Cairo. 
This  structure  has  never  been  opened,  or  even  ade- 
quately examined,  but  the  conjecture  of  some  archae- 


EG  YPT1AN  ANTIQUITIES  A T BOOLAK.  115 


ologists  that  it  was  built  by  King  Sne-frou,  the  prede- 
cessor of  Cheops,  is  possibly  confirmed  by  Mariette’s 
discovery  of  the  two  painted  limestone  statues,  which 
belong  to  the  Third  Dynasty. 

The  inscriptions  show  that  they  represent  the  prince 
Ra-Hotep  and  the  princess  Nefer-t,  who  may  have 
been  either  his  wife  or  sister.  The  size  of  life,  they 
sit  side  by  side  on  plain,  massive  chairs  ; but  the  atti- 
tudes are  easy  and  natural,  and  the  hands  are  not  laid 
upon  the  knees.  Only  the  drapery — a loin-cloth  for 
the  man  and  a simple  white  garment,  without  folds, 
for  the  woman — is  stiffly  and  awkwardly  represented 
The  muscles  of  the  chest  and  limbs,  the  joints,  hands, 
and  feet,  are  carefully  modelled,  and  the  heads  might 
be  boldly  set  beside  the  best  portrait-busts  ever  made. 
Ra-Hotep’s  flesh  is  painted  of  a fresh,  ruddy  color, 
and  Nefer-t’s  a pale  olive  ; yet  the  features  indicate 
that  they  belonged  to  the  same  race.  Nothing  can  be 
finer  than  the  delicate  individuality  expressed  in  the 
two  faces.  His  is  strong,  proud,  asserting  authority  ; 
hers,  kind,  sympathetic,  yet  carried  with  the  air  of  one 
to  whom  respect  is  inevitably  paid.  The  type  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  “village  magistrate,”  but  greatly 
finer  and  nobler.  The  eyes  are  inserted  in  the  same 
manner,  and  are  of  even  more  admirable  workman- 
ship ; for  they  fairly  gleam  and  sparkle,  and  there  are 
moments  when  a human  intelligence  suddenly  lights 
up  the  face. 

It  is  a remarkable  circumstance,  and  one  over  which 
the  ethnologists  will  doubtless  break  their  heads,  that 
these  remains  of  the  earliest,  freest,  and  highest  art 


n6 


EGYPT. 


yet  discovered  in  Egypt  should  represent  a quite  dif- 
ferent physical  type  from  that  of  the  later  dynasties. 
That  they  are  Caucasian,  or  Aryan,  is  evident  at  the 
first  glance  ; that  they  possessed  intelligence,  energy, 
and  those  moral  qualities  which  we  express  by  the 
word  “character,”  seems  equally  certain.  Looking 
at  Ra-Hotep’s  face,  your  first  impression  is  : “Here 
is  a gentleman  ! ” The  remains  of  the  Ancient  Em- 
pire suggest  a certain  amount  of  freedom — continuous 
development  among  both  rulers  and  people  ; those  of 
the  Later  Empire,  on  the  contrary,  are  rigidly  stamped 
with  the  seal  of  a priestly  despotism. 

Here,  for  instance,  is  a splendid  granite  statue  of 
King  Sha-fra  (Cephrenes,  the  builder  of  the  second 
Pyramid),  which  Mariette  found  at  the  bottom  of  a 
well  in  the  very  ancient  granite  temple,  which  he  dis- 
covered eight  years  ago,  near  the  Sphinx.  It  bears  all 
the  marks  of  the  same  ardent,  struggling  art  which  we 
detect  in  the  wooden  and  limestone  statues.  The 
head  is  slightly  lifted : the  features  are  modelled  with 
a care  which  attests  to  us  the  exactness  of  the  portrait ; 
the  eyes  look,  and  do  not  simply  dream,  as  in  the 
forms  of  the  Later  Empire  ; and  while  one  hand  rests, 
but  not  flatly,  upon  the  knee,  the  other  is  closed  and 
brought  down  upon  the  thigh,  as  who  should  say: 
“ Such  is  my  will ! ” The  figure  speaks  and  com- 
mands, while  the  later  Thothmes  and  Rameses  sit, 
like  Brahma,  in  endless  passiveness.  It  will  be  found, 

I am  sure,  that  the  decadence  of  the  art  of  Egypt, 
during  her  most  illustrious  historical  periods,  was  due 
to  the  despotic  limitations  of  her  religion.  It  was  the 


EG  YP  PI  AN  ANTIQ  U I TIES  A T BOOLAK.  1 17 

same  spirit  which,  during  the  Middle  Ages  and  since, 
has  compelled  the  artists  to  give  a particular  color  to 
the  drapery  of  each  Apostle,  and  to  design  Annunci- 
ations, Assumptions,  Transfigurations,  Judgments, 
according  to  one  easily  recognizable  pattern. 

Mariette’s  discoveries,  thus  far,  have  thrown  less 
light  upon  the  sojourn  of  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  than 
many  might  have  expected,  or  wished.  We  are  apt 
to  forget,  in  the  great  importance  which  the  Biblical 
narrative  possesses  for  us,  that  a small  subject  race,  like 
the  Jews,  could  only  be  accidentally  mentioned  in  the 
annals  of  such  a proud  and  powerful  people.  A few 
strong  probabilities,  however,  are  worthy  of  being  no- 
ticed. The  conjectured  period  of  Joseph’s  arrival  in 
Egypt  corresponds  with  that  of  the  Hyksos,  or  Shep- 
herd Kings,  who,  being  strangers  themselves,  would 
the  more  readily  confer  high  authority  upon  a stran- 
ger. Moses,  almost  certainly,  was  educated  as  an 
Egyptian  priest  under  the  reign  of  Rameses  II.,  and 
the  Pharaoh  of  the  Exodus,  Menephthah  was  the  lat- 
ter's son,  a superb  bust  of  whom  is  in  Mariette’s  mu- 
seum. The  name,  Moses,  is  the  Egyptian  Mesu , sig- 
nifying “child”  or  “boy.”  A recently-deciphered 
papyrus  contains  an  official  report  concerning  a cer- 
tain “Mesu,”  who  is  declared  to  have  much  influence 
over  “ the  foreign  people,”  as  the  descendants  of  the 
Hyksos,  the  Israelites,  and  other  Semitic  tribes  set- 
tled in  the  Delta,  were  collectively  designated. 
Bricks  made  with  and  without  straw,  are  to  be  found 
in  quantities  among  the  ruins  of  Bubastis  and  other 
Egyptian  cities  in  the  Land-of  Goshen. 


EGYPT. 


118 

It  is  difficult  to  make  an  end,  while  so  much  re- 
mains undescribed,  yet  I must  try  to  avoid  the  for- 
mality of  a catalogue.  A large  glass  case  in  one  of 
the  eastern  rooms  is  quite  filled  by  the  magnificent 
jewels  of  the  queen,  Aah-hotep  (of  the  Eighteenth 
Dynasty,  about  1700  B.  C.),  supposed  to  be  the 
mother  of  King  Amosis,  who  overthrew  the  Hyksos. 
The  splendid  gilded  coffin  was  found  intact,  only  two 
or  three  feet  below  the  soil,  at  a small  village  near 
Thebes.  It  appears  to  have  been  stolen  from  the  sep- 
ulchre by  thieves  who  were  pursued  or  became  alarm- 
ed, and  hastily  buried  it  by  the  way.  No  modern 
queen  would  hesitate  to  wear  the  exquisite  chains, 
diadems,  ear-rings,  and  bracelets  of  this  Theban 
woman.  It  would  require  a professional  jeweller  to  do 
justice  to  the  admirable  quality  of  the  workmanship. 

Of  even  greater  interest  are  the  household  articles, 
implements  of  trade,  food,  etc.,  which,  like  the  spoils 
of  Pompeii,  restore  for  us  the  domestic  life  of  the 
people.  Here,  for  instance,  are  stools,  cane-bottomed 
chairs  and  work-boxes,  four  thousand  years  old, 
yet  no  more  dilapidated  than  if  they  came  out  of  a 
garret  of  the  last  century ; nets,  knives,  needles,  and 
toilet  ornaments;  glass  bottles  and  drinking  cups, 
as  clear  as  if  just  blown  ; earthenware,  glazed  in  blue 
and  yellow  patterns,  the  very  counterpart  of  old  Ma- 
jolica ; seeds,  eggs,  and  bread  ; straw  baskets,  and  a 
child’s  ball  for  playing;  paint-boxes  with  colors  and 
brushes,  and  boards  for  games  of  draughts — in  short, 
a collection  almost  as  varied  and  complete  as  the 
ashes  of  Vesuvius  preserved  for  us  of  the  Grteco- 


EGYPTIAN  ANTIQUITIES  AT  BOOLAK.  1:9 

Roman  life  of  the  year  seventy-nine  of  our  era.  But 
these  Egyptian  relics  date  from  one  thousand  to 
three  thousand  years  before  our  era  began. 

I have  left  myself  no  space  to  speak  of  the  stele  of 
Alexander,  or  the  Canopic  Stone,  which,  like  the  Ro- 
setta Stone  of  Champollion,  contains  the  same  docu- 
ment in  Greek,  Hieroglyphic,  and  Demotic  charac- 
ters. It  is  a limestone  slab,  six  feet  high,  beautifully 
engraved,  and  in  the  most  perfect  state  of  preserva- 
tion. This  additional  proof  of  the  correctness  of 
Champollion’s  interpretation  of  the  hieroglyphics  was 
really  not  needed,  but  the  confirmation  it  brings  will 
be  a comfort  to  many  hesitating  minds.  I have  pur- 
posely paid  less  attention  to  the  later  and  more  exact 
historical  records  in  the  Museums,  because  the  reve- 
lation of  the  earliest  periods,  which  Mariette  has  very 
recently  brought  to  light,  are  still  comparatively  un- 
known to  the  world  ; and  they  are  certainly  of  incal- 
culable value. 


CHAPTER  X. 


FRAGMENTS  OF  EARLY  EGYPTIAN  LITERATURE. 

Cairo,  April  4. 

T MUST  return  once  more  to  Mariette’s  discoveries. 

In  order  to  appreciate  their  importance,  the  reader 
must  remember  that  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  de- 
ciphering the  hieroglyphic  characters  have  been  so 
nearly  overcome,  that  most  of  the  civic  or  religious 
records  are  now  read  with  almost  as  much  facility  as 
if  they  had  been  inscribed  in  Hebrew  or  Syriac.  Al- 
though Champollion’s  inspired  genius  and  marvellous 
good  fortune  only  gave  him  the  interpretation  of 
about  seven  hundred  characters,  more  than  four  thou- 
sand five  hundred  are  now  intelligible  to  the  scholars 
of  Germany  and  France.  Moreover,  it  is  settled  that 
Egypt  had  her  written  language  long  before  the  Pyra- 
mids were  built,  together  with  all  the  main  features  of 
her  religion,  and  a well-developed  if  not  an  elaborate 
political  organization. 

In  proportion  as  the  mysteries  of  the  old  Egyptian 
Faith  are  revealed  to  us,  we  discover,  in  place  of  a 
gross  and  grotesque  mythology,  the  evidences  of  a 
symmetrical  theological  system,  based  upon  a profound 
philosophical  apprehension  of  the  forces  of  Nature. 
Mariette  says : 


EARL  Y EG  YPTIAN  LI  TER  A TORE. 


121 


“On  the  summit  of  the  Egyptian  Pantheon  hovers 
a sole  God,  immortal,  increate,  invisible,  and  hidden 
in  the  inaccessible  depths  of  his  own  essence.  He 
is  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth  ; he  made  all 
that  exists,  and  nothing  was  made  without  him.  This 
is  the  God,  the  knowledge  of  whom  was  reserved  for 
the  initiated,  in  the  sanctuaries.  But  the  Egyptian 
mind  could  not  or  would  not  remain  at  this  sublime 
altitude.  It  considered  the  world,  its  formation,  the 
principles  which  govern  it,  man  and  his  earthly  des- 
tiny, as  an  immense  drama  in  which  the  one  Being  is 
the  only  actor.  All  proceeds  from  him,  and  all  re- 
turns to  him.  But  he  has  agents  who  are  his  own 
personified  attributes,  who  become  deities  in  visible 
forms,  limited  in  their  activity,  yet  partaking  of  his 
own  powers  and  qualities.” 

In  fact,  as  in  all  forms  of  Faith,  there  is  a ladder 
rising  from  pure  realism  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of 
spiritual  aspiration ; and  individual  souls,  or  classes 
of  souls,  rest  at  the  height  which  corresponds  to  their 
quality. 

We  must  suppose  that  a people  so  far  developed  as 
the  Egyptians  under  the  Ancient  Empire,  had  also  a 
Literature.  The  character  of  their  art  would  attest  it, 
if  nothing  else.  Songs,  poems,  parables,  perhaps  ro- 
mances, must  have  been  written,  chanted,  or  recited, 
and  even  if  the  isolated  grandeur  and  awe  attached  to 
the  rulers  prohibited  the  inscription  of  such  works  upon 
solid  tablets,  they  could  hardly  have  escaped  being 
here  and  there  deposited,  on  papyrus  scrolls,  with  the 
bodies  of  their  authors  or  their  admirers.  The  scribes 


122 


EGYPT. 


appear  to  have  been  a large  and  important  class,  as 
early  as  the  Fourth  Dynasty,  and  they,  in  combination 
with  the  priesthood,  probably  produced  the  prayers, 
invocations,  and  litanies  of  the  Temples,  which  became 
orthodox  and  therefore  invariable  for  the  Later  Em- 
pire. 

I believe  no  fragments  of  a purely  secular  literature 
have  yet  been  found  ; but  the  many  translations  made 
by  Mariette  show  the  high  poetic  character  of  the  early 
religious  and  historic  literature.  Certain  forms  of  the 
faith,  in  fact,  lent  themselves  as  readily  to  poetry  as 
those  of  the  Greek  Mythology.  Its  basis  was  strongly 
spiritual,  the  leading  article  being  a belief  in  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  and  its  future  reward  or  punish- 
ment for  the  deeds  done  in  the  body — a belief,  the  ear- 
nestness of  which,  among  the  Egyptians,  is  all  the  more 
remarkable  because  it  seems  to  have  been  quite  weak 
or  imperfect  among  the  ancient  Hebrews.  Then  the 
myths  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  typifying  the  struggle  of  Light 
with  Darkness,  the  beautiful  attributes  of  the  young 
god  Horus,  the  rising  sun  represented  by  Harpocrates 
issuing  from  the  lotus-flower,  with  numberless  others, 
offer  images  which  would  kindle  the  imagination  of 
even  a primitive,  poet.  One  of  the  oldest  specimens 
was  found  at  Memphis,  on  a tablet  of  the  Ancient 
Empire.  It  had  belonged,  according  to  the  inscrip- 
tion, to  the  tomb  of  a royal  scribe,  named  Anaoua; 
and  a part  of  it  contains  a remarkable  invocation  to 
the  Sun. 


EARL  Y EG  YP  TIAN  LI  TER  A TURE. 


123 


“HYMN  TO  THE  SUN. 

“Words  pronounced  in  worshipping  the  Sun,  who 
rises  for  the  Creation  from  the  solar  mountain,  and 
who  goeth  down  in  the  divine  life  by  the  Osiris,  the 
royal  scribe,  the  chief  of  the  house,  Anaoua,  pro- 
claimed the  Just.  He  speaketh  : 

“ Hail  to  thee,  when  thou  risest  in  the  solar  moun- 
tain under  the  form  of  Ra,  and  when  thou  goest  down 
under  the  form  of  Ma  ! Thou  circlest  about  the  heav- 
ens, and  men  behold  and  turn  toward  thee,  hiding 
their  faces ! Would  that  I might  accompany  thy 
majesty  when  thou  displayest  thyself  on  the  morning 
of  each  day  ! Thy  beams  upon  the  faces  of  men  could 
no  one  describe  : gold  is  as  nought,  compared  to  thy 
beams.  The  lands  divine,  they  are  seen  in  pictures : 
the  countries  of  Arabia,  they  have  been  numbered: 
thou  alone  art  concealed  ! Thy  transformations  are 
equal  to  those  of  the  celestial  ocean : it  marches  as 
thou  marchest.  Grant  that  I reach  the  land  of  eter- 
nity and  the  region  of  them  that  have  been  approved; 
that  I be  reunited  with  the  fair  and  wise  spirits  of  Ker- 
nefer,  and  that  I appear  among  them  to  contemplate 
thy  beauty,  on  the  morning  of  each  day  !” 

A thorough  poetic  spirit  breathes  through  the  mys- 
ticism of  this  chant.  The  beginning  half  suggests  the 
invocation  of  Ossian,  but  has  a freshness  and  simplicity 
far  beyond  the  sentimental  resonance  of  the  latter. 
Behind  the  material  sun  which  is  addressed,  one  dis- 
tinctly feels  the  principle  of  good,  of  light,  and  intelli- 
gence, which  its  orb  symbolizes. 


124 


EGYPT. 


The  next  quotation  I shall  make  is  from  a tablet 
celebrating  the  victories  of  Thothmes  III.,  which  was 
chiselled  for  the  great  temple  of  Karnak.  This  mon- 
arch, one  of  the  greatest  who  ruled  in  Egypt,  was  the 
fourth  successor  of  Amosis,  who  overthrew  the  Hyk- 
sos,  and  lived  in  the  seventeenth  century  before  Christ. 
He  was  a famous  conqueror,  during  his  reign,  ac- 
cording to  an  inscription  still  existing  : “ Egypt  set  her 
frontiers  wherever  she  pleased.”  He  subjected  Nubia, 
Syria,  Mesopotamia,  and  perhaps  a part  of  Asia  Mi- 
nor; and  it  was  apparently  toward  the  close  of  his 
reign,  on  the  occasion  of  some  solemn  celebration  of 
his  victories,  that  the  chant  of  praise  was  written.  It 
is  a poem,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  not  an  his- 
torical document,  and  its  author  was  perhaps  some 
priestly  Theban  laureate.  It  represents  a period  two 
thousand  years  later  than  the  “ Hymn  to  the  Sun,”  and 
is  consequently  cast  in  a much  more  symmetrical  and 
artistic  form.  The  opening  is  a welcome  given  by 
the  god,  Amun-Ra  (the  Jupiter  Ammon  of  the  Greeks), 
“ the  lord  of  the  thrones  of  the  world,”  to  King 
Thothmes  on  the  return  of  the  latter  from  his  tri- 
umphs : 

“ Come  to  me  and  be  rejoiced  in  beholding  my 
grace,  O mine  avenger,  living  forever  ! I shine  through 
thine  adorations  ; my  heart  dilates  to  thy  welcome  in 
my  temple.  I enfold  thy  limbs  with  mine  arms,  to 
give  them  health  and  life.  Pleasant  are  thy  favors  to 
me,  through  the  image  which  thou  hast  set  up  for  me 
in  my  sanctuary.  It  is  I who  compensate  thee  ; it  is  I 
who  give  thee  power  and  victory  over  all  the  nations ; 


EARL  Y EG  YPTIAN  LI  TER  A TCJRE. 


125 

it  is  I who  cause  the  knowledge  and  the  fear  of  thee 
to  be  upon  all  countries,  and  that  the  terror  of  thee 
reaches  even  unto  the  four  supports  of  the  heavens.” 

There  is  much  more  of  this  preliminary  welcome  in 
the  same  strain.  Then,  suddenly,  the  god  Amun-Ra 
begins  to  intone  a cadenced  chant,  in  which  we  find 
one  of  the  very  earliest  indications  of  a rhythmical  po- 
etic form.  Its  resemblance  to  the  later  Hebrew  chants 
will  not  escape  the  reader  : 

AMUN-RA  TO  THO'IHMES  III. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  princes 
of  Tahi : I cast  them  under  thy  feet  when  thou  passest 
through  their  lands.  I have  made  them  behold  thy 
splendor,  as  a lord  of  light ; thou  shinest  upon  them 
like  mine  image. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Asia,  to  lead  into  captivity  the  chiefs  of  the 
land  of  the  Rotennu.  I have  made  them  behold  thy 
majesty  bound  with  the  girdle,  bearing  weapons  and 
fighting  upon  the  chariot. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  country 
of  the  East,  to  penetrate  even  to  the  cities  of  the  Holy 
Land.  I have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty,  like 
unto  the  star  Canopus,  which  darts  forth  its  flame  and 
brings  the  dew. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  country 
of  the  West : Kefa  and  Asia  are  under  thy  terror.  I 
have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty,  like  unto  a young 
and  valiant  bull : his  ornaments  are  his  horns,  and 
nothing  resists  him. 


1 26 


EGYPT. 


*•  I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  all  the 
districts : the  land  of  Maten  trembles  with  fear  before 
thee.  I have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty  like  unto 
a crocodile  : he  is  the  terrible  master  of  the  waters  : 
no  one  ventures  to  approach  him. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  them  that 
dwell  in  the  islands;  the  inhabitants  of  the  sea  are 
under  the  terror  of  thy  shouts  of  war.  I have  made 
them  behold  thy  majesty  like  an  avenger  who  stands 
upon  the  back  of  his  victim. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  Ta- 
hennu:  the  isles  of  Tana,  they  are  subject  unto  thy 
designs.  I have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty  like 
unto  a lion  terrible  to  see,  who  lieth  down  upon  their 
corpses  in  the  breadth  of  their  valleys. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  dis- 
tricts of  the  waters  : that  those  who  dwell  around  the 
great  sea  may  be  bound  by  thy  hand.  I have  made 
them  behold  thy  majesty  like  the  king  of  the  wing 
which  soars,  and  whose  sight  lays  hold  upon  whatever 
it  pleases. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  those  who 
are  in  their  ....  that  the  Heruscha  * be  led  by  thee 
into  captivity.  I have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty 
like  unto  the  jackal  of  the  south,  he  that,  in  his  hid- 
den prowlings,  traverses  all  the  land. 

“ I am  come,  and  I permit  thee  to  smite  the  Anu 
of  Nubia  ; that  the  Remenson  may  be  put  under  thy 


* The  Heruscha  were  the  same  as  their  descendants  the 
present  Bischari  tribe  in  the  Nubian  Desert. 


EARL  V EG  YP  TIAN  LI  TER  A TURE. 


127 


hand.  I have  made  them  behold  thy  majesty  like 
unto  that  of  them  who  are  thy  two  brothers : * their 
arms  are  brought  upon  thee  to  give  thee  [victory].” 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  Hebrew  Literature  draws  its 
style  and  character  as  directly  from  the  .Egyptian  as 
the  Latin  does  from  the  Greek.  If  the  lofty  theism 
preserved  as  a mystery  in  the  sanctuaries  of  the  tem- 
ples struck  a far  profounder  root  in  Israel,  during  its 
free  and  glorious  ages,  and  blossomed  in  the  highest 
and  divinest  forms  of  spiritual  aspiration,  the  tone 
and  cadence  of  its  expression  suggest  none  the  less  the 
language  of  the  Nile.  Who  shall  say,  indeed,  whether 
the  chief  element  of  Faith,  purified  by  the  inspired 
genius  of  Moses,  was  not  originally  the  same. 

If  a collection  were  made  of  similar  or  equivalent 
expressions,  in  Egyptian  and  Hebrew,  it  would  surely 
be  richer  and  more  striking  than  is  now  generally 
supposed.  Beginning  with  an  ancient  inscription  on 
the  temple  of  Sais  : “ I am  who  is,  has  been,  and  ever 
shall  be,”  we  should  doubtless  find  a long  series  of 
reverential  phrases,  which  are  already  familiar  to  our 
ears.  Marictte  says  that  the  following,  from  one  of 
the  early  Egyptian  rituals,  is  repeated  so  frequently 
on  stela:  and  tombs  that  we  are  justified  in  supposing 
it  to  be  part  of  a daily  prayer  : “ Through  my  love 
have  I drawn  near  to  God.  I have  given  bread  to 
him  who  was  hungry,  water  to  him  who  was  athirst, 

* Thothmes  III.  succeeded  his  brother,  Thothmes  II. 
The  other  brother  may  be  his  masculine  and  victorious  sis- 
ter, Ilatasou,  who  was  regent  seventeen  years  during  his 
minority. 


I2S 


EGYPT. 


garments  to  him  who  was  naked,  and  a place  of  shel- 
ter to  the  abandoned.” 

One  more  passage,  in  which  an  historical  event  is 
narrated  botli  in  a poetic  and  dramatic  fashion,  must 
conclude  my  specimens  of  the  Old  Egyptian  Litera- 
ture. It  is  sculptured  on  the  exterior  wall  of  the  tem- 
ple of  Karnak,  and  also  on  the  northern  front  of  the 
large  pylon  at  Luxor.  Some  Egyptologists  call  it  the 
‘ Poem  of  Pen-ta-our,”  but  I am  unable  to  say 
whether  that  is  the  author’s  name.  The  subject  is  an 
exploit  of  Rameses  II.  (Sesostris),  toward  the  close 
of  his  eighteen  years  of  war  with  the  people  of  Asia, 
and  therefore  between  the  years  1350  and  1400  b.  C. 
It  appears  that  under  Rameses  II.,  a series  of  rebel- 
lions occurred  throughout  the  regions  conquered  by 
his  predecessors,  Sethi  and  Rameses  I.  In  Nubia, 
Libya,  Asia  Minor,  and  along  the  borders  of  Media 
and  Assyria,  the  tribes  rose  against  the  Egyptian  rule. 
One  by  one  they  were  reconquered,  but  a people 
called  in  the  inscription,  “the  vile  race  of  Khetas,” 
held  out  stubbornly  to  the  end,  and  were  never  thor- 
oughly overcome.  They  stood  at  the  head  of  a con- 
federacy of  smaller  tribes,  the  names  of  which  (Ara- 
dus,  Patasa,  Kashkash,  Cherobe,  etc.)  may  hereafter 
determine  their  geographical  locality.  In  the  fifth 
year  of  his  reign,  in  marching  upon  the  city  of  Atesch, 
Rameses  II.,  deceived  by  the  Bedouins,  whom  the 
Khetas  bribed  to  act  as  guides  for  him,  became  sepa- 
rated from  his  army,  and  suddenly  found  himself 
alone,  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  What  then  hap- 
pened, is  thus  related  by  the  poet: 


EARL  Y EG  YPTIAN  LITER  A TURE.  129 


“His  Majesty,  in  the  health  and  strength  of  his 
life,  rising  like  the  god  Month,  put  on  the  panoply  of 
battle.  Urging  forward  his  chariot,  he  entered  into 
the  army  of  the  vile  Khetas;  he  was  alone,  no  one 
else  with  him.  He  found  himself  surrounded  by  two 
thousand  five  hundred  chariots,  and  the  most  rapid 
warriors  of  the  vile  Khetas,  and  the  numerous  tribes 
who  accompanied  them  rushed  to  stay  his  course. 
Each  of  their  chariots  held  three  men,  and  the  king 
had  with  him  neither  his  princes,  nor  his  generals, 
nor  the  captains  of  the  bowmen  and  the  chariots.” 

In  this  perilous  strait,  Rameses  addressed  the  fol- 
lowing prayer  to  the  supreme  god  of  Egypt : 

“ My  bowmen  and  my  horsemen  have  abandoned 
me  : not  one  of  them  is  here  to  combat  beside  me  ! 
What,  then,  is  the  purpose  of  my  father  Ammon  ? Is 
he  a father  who  denies  his  son  ? Have  I not  gone 
according  to  thy  word,  O my  father?  Thy  mouth, 
has  it  not  guided  my  marches,  and  thy  counsels,  have 
they  not  directed  me  ? Have  I not  celebrated  thee 
with  many  and  splendid  festivals,  and  have  I not  filled 
thy  mansion  with  my  spoils?  The  whole  world  hath 
assembled  to  dedicate  to  thee  its  offerings.  I have 
enriched  thy  domain,  immolating  to  thee  thirty  thou- 
sand beeves,  with  all  sweet-smelling  herbs  and  the  most 
precious  perfumes.  With  blocks  of  stone  have  I raised 
temples  for  thee,  and  for  thee  have  I set  up  the  eter- 
nal trees.  I have  brought  obelisks  from  Elephantina, 
and  even  I have  caused  the  everlasting  stones  to  be 
moved.  For  thee  my  great  ships  traverse  the  sea,  and 
carry  to  thee  the  tributes  of  the  nations.  I invoke 
9 


130 


EGYPT. 


thee,  0 my  father  ! I am  in  the  midst  of  throngs  of 
unknown  people,  and  I am  alone  before  thee : no  one 
is  beside  me.  My  bowmen  and  my  horsemen  aban- 
doned me  when  I cried  to  them : not  one  of  them 
heard  rne  when  I called  them  to  my  aid.  But  I choose 
Ammon  rather  than  thousands  of  bowmen,  than 
thousands  of  horsemen,  than  myriads  of  young  heroes, 
even  were  they  all  assembled  together  ! ” 

The  god  answers : 

“Thy  words  have  resounded  in  Hermonthis,  O Ra- 
rneses  ! I am  near  thee,  I am  thy  father,  the  Sun : 
my  hand  is  with  thee,  and  I count  more  to  thee  than 
millions  of  men  assembled  together ! The  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  chariots,  when  I shall  be  in  their 
midst,  shall  be  broken  before  thy  horses.  The  hearts 
of  thine  enemies  shall  grow  weak  within  their  sides, 
and  all  their  members  shall  be  relaxed.  They  shall 
fail  to  discharge  their  arrows,  and  shall  have  no  cour- 
age to  hold  the  lance.  I shall  cause  them  to  plunge 
into  the  waters,  even  as  the  crocodile  plunges : they 
shall  be  thrown  one  upon  the  other,  and  they  shall 
slay  one  another.  Not  one  will  I suffer  to  look  be- 
hind him  : he  that  falls  shall  not  rise  again.” 

Then  the  charioteer,  standing  beside  Rameses,  thus 
addresses  him : 

“ O,  my  good  master,  generous  king,  sole  protector 
of  Egypt  in  the  day  of  battle,  we  are  left  alone  in  the 
midst  of  the  enemy’s  ranks : stay  thy  course,  and  let 
us  save  the  breath  of  our  lives  ! What  shall  we  do, 
O Rameses,  my  good  master  ? ” 

The  king  answers : 


EARL  V EG  YP  TIAN  LI  TER  A TURE.  1 31 


“ Courage,  be  of  good  cheer,  0,  rny  charioteer ! I 
shall  throw  myself  into  the  midst  of  them,  even  as 
darteth  the  divine  hawk : overthrown  and  slaughtered, 
they  shall  fall  in  the  dust.” 

Six  times  Rameses  drives  his  chariot  through  the 
hostile  ranks,  slaying  many  of  their  best  warriors. 
Then  some  of  his  generals  and  horsemen  come  to  his 
assistance,  and  are  greeted  with  a sharp  reproof, 
which,  indeed,  they  seem  to  have  well  deserved.  In 
the  evening  the  whole  Egyptian  army  arrives,  and 
finds  the  field  of  combat  covered  with  the  bodies  of 
the  slain.  The  generals  thus  address  the  king: 

“ Good  fighter,  thou  of  the  dauntless  heart,  thyself 
hast  done  the  work  of  thy  bowmen  and  thy  horsemen. 
Son  of  the  god  Tioum,  formed  out  of  his  own  substance, 
thou  hast  effaced  the  country  of  the  Khetas  with  thy 
victorious  sword.  Thou,  0 my  warrior,  art  the  lord 
of  all  strength:  never  was  a king  like  to  thee,  who 
tightest  for  thy  soldiers  on  the  day  of  battle.  Thou, 
king  of  the  great  heart,  art  the  first  in  combat  ; thou 
art  first  of  the  valiant  before  thine  army,  in  the  face 
of  the  whole  world  risen  against  thee.” 

Rameses  replies  to  them  : 

“No  one  of  you  hath  well  done  in  abandoning  me 
thus,  alone  among  mine  enemies.  The  princes  and 
the  captains  have  not  joined  their  hands  to  mine.  I 
have  fought,  I have  repulsed  thousands  of  the  tribes, 
and  I was  alone.  The  horses  which  carried  me  were : 
Power  in  the  Thebaid  and  Repose  in  the  Superior  Re- 
gion. They  are  they  which  my  hand  found  when  I 
was  alone  among  mine  enemies.  I order  that  corn 


132 


EGYPT. 


shall  be  served  to  them  before  the  god  Phra,  each  day, 
when  I shall  again  be  within  my  royal  pylons.” 

The  exaggerations  of  the  poet  and  the  conventional 
honors  he  accords  to  the  king  do  not  prevent  us  from 
recognizing  some  of  the  features  of  an  actual  occur- 
rence. Rameses  no  doubt  fell  into  an  ambuscade, 
and  possessing  superior  arms,  armor  and  horses,  de- 
fended himself  gallantly  until  assistance  arrived. 
The  flattery  is  not  much  more  excessive  than  in  most 
modern  paintings  of  battles,  wherein  the  crowned 
head  is  always  represented  as  halting  or  riding  forward 
under  the  heaviest  fire  of  the  enemy. 

These  fragments  belong  to  the  earliest  literature  of 
the  human  race;  for  the  last  of  them,  just  quoted,  was 
written  while  Moses  was  yet  a child.  I therefore 
make  no  apology  for  the  length  of  this  letter,  although 
its  contents  may  be  known  to  those  whose  attention 
has  been  especially  drawn  to  the  surprising  revela- 
tions which  Egypt  has  so  long  kept  secret,  but  at  last 
fully  revealed  to  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

EGYPT  UNDER  THE  KHEDIVE’S  RULE. 


Cairo,  April  4. 


LEVEN  years  have  elapsed  since  Ismail  Pasha, 


the  Viceroy,  or  Khedive  (an  uncertain  title,  sup- 
posed to  be  a grade  higher  than  the  former)  of  Egypt, 
succeeded  to  the  heritage  of  his  grandfather,  Moham- 
med Ali.  Since  then,  the  Suez  Canal  has  been  com- 
pleted, and  for  more  than  four  years  has  been  opened 
to  the  commerce  of  the  world ; the  cities  of  Ismailia 
and  Port  Said  have  grown  up  with  the  rapidity  of 
Kansas  or  Nebraska  towns ; the  delta  is  covered  with 
railways,  and  Upper  Egypt  is  reached  by  the  locomo- 
tive ; the  regions  of  Soudan  have  become  safe,  orderly, 
and  easily  accessible  ; and  Cairo  and  Alexandria  have 
their  statues  and  theatres,  their  paved,  sprinkled,  and 
gas-lighted  streets.  More  significant  than  this,  the 
area  of  cultivated  land  has  increased  from  twenty  to 
thirty  per  cent,  throughout  the  country,  the  extension 
of  the  canals  and  the  growth  of  the  trees  have  pro- 
duced a marked  influence  on  the  rainfall,  and  thus 
climate  as  well  as  industry  are  coming  to  resemble  the 
European  rather  than  the  former  African  conditions. 
In  Cairo,  for  instance,  where  the  average  was  until 
recently,  four  or  five  rainy  days  in  a year,  it  has  now 


134 


EGYPT. 


increased  to  twenty-one ; in  the  Delta,  where  it  was 
eight,  it  is  now  forty  ! This  change  correspondingly 
diminishes  the  temperature  of  the  Winter  months ; 
and  fires  for  warmth,  although  still  unknown,  are  al- 
ready a necessity.  This  year  the  Spring  is  not  more 
forward  than  in  Southern  Italy:  it  has  only  just  come, 
with  a startling  rapidity  which  I had  supposed  pecu- 
liar to  high  northern  latitudes.  Three  days  ago,  the 
Indian  sycamores,  on  the  road  to  Heliopolis  and 
Shoobra,  stood  perfectly  cold  and  naked  : to-day  they 
are  veiled  in  the  brightest  drapery  of-young  leaves. 
The  buds  of  the  poplar  and  mulberry  trees,  also,  are 
opening  so  fast  that  one  can  fairly  notice  a change 
from  hour  to  hour.  But  this  is  April,  in  a land  where 
February  is  wont  to  be  the  Spring  month. 

Is  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  character  of  a develop- 
ment which  depends  upon  the  will  of  one  man.  With 
the  wonderful  spectacle  of  Japan  before  our  eyes,  we 
may  easily  be  misled  by  the  external  signs  of  change 
in  Egypt.  In  Japan,  however,  the  experiment  is  tried 
upon  a curious,  restless,  and  quick-witted  people, 
whose  religious  faith,  tolerant  because  philosophic, 
interposes  no  serious  hindrance  to  their  advance  in 
civilization.  Here,  the  conditions  are  very  different ; 
every  change  requires  care  and  caution,  and  old  prej- 
udices have  even  a greater  force  than  personal  inter- 
est. From  all  I can  learn,  the  recent  development  of 
Egypt  is  chiefly  material:  due  in  great  measure  to  the 
desire  for  show  and  gain  of  a ruler  who  is  shrewd,  in- 
telligent, practical  in  business  matters,  and  personally 
ambitious.  It  is  too  much  to  expect  that  an  Oriental 


EGYPT  UNDER  THE  KHEDIVE' S RULE.  135 


prince,  in  our  day,  shall  manifest  a hearty  interest  in 
the  well-being  of  his  subjects.  The  Egyptians  com- 
plain bitterly  of  three  evils,  which  to  them  more  than 
counterbalance  the  advantages  thrust  upon  them. 
These  are : enormous  taxes,  utter  lack  of  defense 
against  the  arbitrary  will  of  those  set  over  them,  and 
the  negligence  and  corruption  of  both  civil  and  crim- 
inal courts. 

Until  the  last  two  or  three  years,  Egyptian  statistics 
have  been  very  confused  and  untrustworthy.  It  is, 
therefore,  difficult  to  make  any  satisfactory  compari- 
sons. The  people  compare  the  Khedive’s  govern- 
ment with  that  of  his  predecessor,  Said  Pacha  (1854  to 
1863),  which  gave  them  justice,  security,  and  only 
moderate  burdens ; and  they  seem  to  forget  what  they 
previously  endured  under  Abbas  Pasha,  and  during 
the  last  years  of  Mohammed  Ali’s  reign.  The  latter, 
with  all  his  tremendous  energy  and  keen  political  wis- 
dom, was  a selfish  despot.  He  originated  a method  of 
taxation  which  would  have  ruined  Egypt  had  it  not 
been  changed — a bounty  on  date  palms,  amounting  to 
seven  or  eight  cents  a tree.  During  my  journey  in 
Ethiopia,  in  1852,  this  tax  had  just  been  increased, 
and,  in  some  districts,  the  people  ruthlessly  destroyed 
their  palm  groves  in  order  to  evade  it.  The  tax  has 
now  been  converted  into  one  upon  real  estate,  which  is 
so  high  that  a tract  planted  with  date-palms  costs  at 
the  rate  of  twenty  cents  a tree.  The  cost  of  labor  and 
food  has  also  increased,  it  is  true,  but  in  nothing  like 
the  same  proportion.  When,  therefore,  the  people  see 
the  Khedive  spending,  in  a few  weeks,  fifteen  million 


136 


EGYPT. 


dollars  for  the  marriage  festivities  of  his  sons ; when 
they  see  enormous  palaces  building  for  these  sons, 
while  a score  or  two  of  royal  residences  are  standing 
empty ; when  they  hear  that  the  Government  is  hard 
up  for  money,  while  jewels  are  purchased  and  foreign 
opera  troupes  brought  to  Cairo  regardless  of  expense, 
— it  is  not  much  wonder  if  they  become  impatient. 
Ignorant  as  they  are,  I verily  believe  the  most  of  them 
would  submit  more  readily  to  their  burdens  if  the  rev- 
enues of  Egypt  were  bestowed  mainly  on  necessary 
public  works. 

The  people,  moreover,  are  still  suffering  from  a 
great  inflation  and  reaction  which  is  curiously  con- 
nected with  our  own  internal  struggle.  The  cotton 
crop  of  Egypt  had  been  steadily,  but  rather  slowly, 
increasing,  up  to  the  year  i860,  when  it  reached  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  bales.  The  breaking 
out  of  the  Rebellion  gave  a tremendous  impetus  to 
this  branch  of  production  ; the  sudden  rise  in  the 
value  of  cotton  made  it  more  profitable  than  wheat  or 
sugar-cane.  All  over  Egypt  the  cultivation  spread : 
the  shrewd  agriculturists,  who  foresaw  their  chance, 
made  such  profits  that  the  small  Fellah  farmers  even 
pulled  up  their  maize  and  onions,  and  planted  cotton. 
By  1864  the  production  had  reached  four  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  bales,  which  brought  a market 
price  three  hundred  and  fifty  per  cent,  higher  than  in 
i860. 

For  the  first  time,  perhaps  in  thousands  of  years, 
Egypt  did  not  produce  enough  breadstuffs  to  support 
its  people : wheat,  corn  and  even  fodder  for  cattle 


EGYPT  UNDER  THE  KHEDIVE'S  R ULE.  137 


were  imported  in  large  quantities.  But  the  cattle 
themselves,  half-starved  and  overworked  by  the  labor 
of  breaking  new  fields  and  drawing  water,  night  and 
day,  died  in  enormous  numbers, — six  hundred  thou- 
sand head,  according  to  an  official  report.  It  became 
finally  necessary  to  import  meat,  oil,  butter,  and  even 
lard,  unclean  to  all  Mohammedans,  from  Europe. 
This  created  a temporary  branch  of  trade,  wherein 
the  speculators  made  enormous  fortunes  out  of  the 
necessities  of  the  people — just  as  they  do  in  certain 
other  lands.  The  scarcity  of  animal  power  led  to  the 
introduction  of  small  portable  steam-engines  for  pump- 
ing water,  and  of  cotton-gins.  But  engineers,  ma- 
chinists for  repairs,  and  especially  fuel,  were  difficult 
to  be  had  and  very  expensive : had  the  price  of  cot- 
ton kept  up,  the  natives  might  have  overcome  this 
difficulty,  but  the  most  of  them  lost  heart  with  their 
first  reverses,  and  a castaway  steam-engine,  rusting  in 
a ditch,  is  now  a common  enough  sight. 

Most  of  the  Fellahs  were  simply  made  wild  by  their 
sudden  accession  of  wealth.  Some  of  them  built  new 
houses,  out  of  all  proportion  to  their  landed  property  ; 
others  invested  in  Circassian  or  Abyssinian  slave-girls  ; 
but  the  most  bought  arms,  golden  ornaments,  and 
jewelry.  By  and  by  the  rise  in  the  cost  of  all  neces- 
saries of  life  began  to  diminish  the  profits.  Then 
came  the  end  of  our  war  ; but  the  imaginative,  cred- 
ulous Egyptian  still  believed  that  his  age  of  gold 
would  last.  He  borrowed,  generally,  on  the  most  ex- 
orbitant terms;  the  meshes  gathered  about  him,  and 
in  a year  or  two  more  he  was  little  else  than  a beggar. 


138 


EGYPT. 


The  Khedive  turned  this  state  of  things  to  his  own 
immense  profit.  He  entered  the  field  as  a lender  on 
a large  scale,  as  a purchaser  of  mortgages  which  were 
always  foreclosed  when  due,  and  as  a wholesale  custo- 
mer for  the  soil  of  Egypt.  First  the  small  farmers, 
then  the  large  land-owners,  saw  their  estates  trans- 
ferred to  him,  then  the  intervening  tracts  were  ac- 
quired by  threats  or  persuasion,  at  a low  price,  until 
entire  districts  passed  into  the  vice-regal  hands.  It  is 
difficult  to  say  how  much  of  Egypt  has  in  this  man- 
ner become  the  Khedive’s  private  property : some 
persons  assert  that  it  is  half  the  productive  soil.  The 
free  Fellahs  are  thus  converted  into  mere  laborers,  or 
tenants  at  will,  and  more  than  ever  subject  to  that 
arbitrary  exercise  of  power  which  already  seized  upon 
them  for  special  service,  whenever  it  was  judged  nec- 
essary. 

The  production  of  cotton,  although  it  has  somewhat 
fallen  off  since  1865,  remains  still  much  greater  than 
formerly.  In  1871,  it  was  about  four  hundred  thou- 
sand bales.  The  production  of  sugar  from  cane  is 
also  increasing  rapidly,  but  as  the  Khedive’s  private 
speculation.  An  Anglo-Indian  indigo  planter  is  here, 
at  present,  in  the  same  interest.  He  failed  to  find  the 
proper  conditions  for  indigo  culture  in  the  Delta,  and 
has  gone  to  the  Fyoom. 

We  must  not  rashly  declare  that  such  experiments 
and  innovations,  dictated  by  personal  interest  and  a 
form  of  ambition  which  is  really  unusual  in  the  Orient, 
will  neither  educate  nor  benefit  the  people.  They 
will  probably  do  both  ; but  the  concentration  of  the 


EG  YP  T UNDER  THE  KHEDIVE'S  R ULE.  139 


ownership  of  the  soil  in  the  hands  of  the  ruler,  is  a 
serious  and  dangerous  evil.  The  Khedive  is  liberal, 
often  splendidly  generous,  with  his  means  ; not  com- 
mon avarice,  but  the  love  of  power,  the  necessity  ol 
display,  prompted  him  to  take  advantage  of  the 
thoughtlessness  of  the  people.  It  was  a sad  mistake, 
for,  to  their  minds,  it  adds  deliberate  injury  to  his 
former  neglect. 

On  the  other  hand,  something  is  being  done  for 
their  education,  and  herein  the  foreign  residents  have 
assisted  to  the  extent  of  their  means  and  opportuni- 
ties. At  the  close  of  Mohammed  Ali’s  reign,  there 
were  three  thousand  children  in  the  elementary  schools 
in  Egypt;  there  are  now  ninety  thousand,  but  of  these 
only  three  thousand  and  eighteen  are  girls.  This  is  one 
scholar  to  every  nine  hundred  and  seventy-three  of 
the  whole  population.  I have  noticed  that  the 
younger  Egyptian  officials  who  have  been  tolerably 
educated  are  impatient  of  the  stupidity  of  their  igno- 
rant countrymen,  and  far  more  inclined  to  look  upon 
them  with  contempt  than  willing  to  join  in  measures 
for  their  improvement. 

In  regard  to  religion,  a greater  tolerance  certainly 
prevails  in  Cairo  and  along  the  valley  of  the  Nile. 
The  Khedive’s  own  liberality  in  this  respect  is  of 
course  imitated  by  nearly  the  whole  body  of  his  civil 
servants,  and  the  latter  impress  something  of  it  upon 
the  people.  But,  if  he  had  taken  pains  to  make  him- 
self respected  and  beloved  by  the  latter,  as  was  his 
predecessor,  he  might  have  already  sapped  the  remain- 
ing prejudices  of  Islam.  I was  a little  surprised,  on 


140 


EGYPT. 


my  arrival  here,  to  find  no  sign  of  a rampant  ortho- 
dox sentiment — a religious  protest  against  acts  and 
habits  which  were  once  supposed  to  bring  defilement. 
I have  since  learned  that  such  a movement  has  really 
been  developed,  within  the  last  ten  years,  although  it 
only  ventures  to  show  itself  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
country.  A new  sect,  called  the  Senussee , has  been 
formed,  with  the  avowed  object  of  restoring  the  primi- 
tive purity  of  Islam,  trampling  down  the  tolerance  ac- 
corded to  foreigners  and  teaching  hate  instead,  and — 
as  a matter  of  course — rejecting  every  element  of  civil- 
ization which  has  been  borrowed  from  the  Franks. 

This  sect  has  gained  a little  foothold  in  some  of  the 
Oases  of  the  Lioyan  Desert,  but  it  only  exists  secretly 
here  and  there  in  Egypt.  It  is  too  late  for  any  such 
reaction  to  have  even  a temporary  importance.  Mecca 
has  no  Infallible  Pope,  to  issue  dead  doctrines  by  proc- 
lamation, and  make  them  living  verities  to  millions  of 
unquestioning  souls.  Islam  has  only  its  inherent 
strength  to  depend  upon — but  that  is  still  not  much 
weakened.  In  fact,  if  the  same  vital  warmth  of  belief 
existed  among  the  members  of  the  Roman  Church, 
Infallibility  would  be  unnecessary. 

The  Fellahs  of  Egypt  possess  many  excellent  quali- 
ties. They  have  an  equal  capacity  for  industry  and 
indolence,  which  misleads  those  tourists  who  take 
most  note  of  the  latter  condition.  They  have  a natu- 
ral fund  of  humor,  are  very  quick-witted,  and  learn 
easily,  although  the  inventive  faculty  has  nearly  disap- 
peared, owing  to  long  disuse.  Fond  of  the  minor  arts 
of  cheating,  they  are  rarely  guilty  of  the  greater  ones; 


EGYPT  UNDER  THE  KHEDIVE' S RULE.  141 


and  the  same  man  who  will  use  every  effort  to  get  an 
advantage  over  you,  will  faithfully  fulfill  the  special 
trust  you  repose  in  him.  They  are  radically  good- 
humored,  cheerful  even  under  sore  privations,  and 
bear  but  a brief  malice  when  offended.  The  stranger 
who  is  firm  and  good-tempered  at  the  same  time  ; 
who  detects  and  thwarts  their  cunning  without  getting 
into  a rage  about  it,  and  who  enforces  his  will,  taking 
care  that  it  shall  not  be  unreasonable,  will  never  have 
any  difficulty  with  these  people. 

Even  Herodotus  made  the  mistake  of  declaring  that 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  are  nowhere  brought  forth  with 
so  little  labor  as  in  Egypt.  We  are  accustomed  to 
consider  the  Valley  of  the  Nile  as  a sort  of  natural 
harvest-field,  self-renewed  from  year  to  year,  its  in- 
habitants having  little  more  to  do  than  sow  the  seed, 
and  look  on  idly  until  the  grain  is  ripe.  I cannot 
see,  however,  that  the  Fellahs  perform  less,  or  less 
continual,  labor  than  the  farmers  of  Europe  or  Amer- 
ica. The  inundation,  it  is  true,  leaves  a thin  deposit  of 
new  loam,  but  the  field  must  be  manured,  in  addition, 
from  the  supply  furnished  by  the  numberless  pigeon- 
houses,  and  afterward  well  plowed.  Then,  during 
the  growth  of  the  grain,  the  irrigation  requires  daily 
supervision  and  toil.  As  the  water  sinks  in  the  canals, 
it  must  be  raised  to  the  fields,  either  by  wheels  turned 
by  buffaloes,  or  poles  and  buckets  worked  by  men. 
From  morning  until  night  the  people  are  busy,  and  I 
never  heard  one  of  them  complaining  of  the  amount 
of  his  toil. 

The  Khedive  is  now  forty-four  years  old,  and  bids 

7 


142 


EGYPT. 


fair,  from  his  appearance,  to  rule  for  at  least  a quar- 
ter of  a century  to  come.  It  is  not  probable  that  his 
policy  will  be  materially  changed.  He  enjoys  the  sur- 
prise of  visitors,  called  forth  by  the  new  aspect  of  the 
Delta  and  Cairo,  and  the  reports  of  his  achievements 
which  are  published  in  Europe.  I doubt  whether  any 
other  prince  would  have  invited  the  redoubtable 
Miihlbach  to  spend  a winter  in  his  capital ; but  then, 
he  was  not  obliged  to  endure  much  of  her  overpower- 
ing society.  He  is  thoroughly  intelligent,  and  wide- 
awake to  all  that  is  going  on  in  the  world  ; even  the 
High  and  Low  Church  squabbles  in  England  do  not 
escape  him.  Whatever  can  be  introduced  into  Egypt 
with  the  smallest  prospect  of  gain,  or  even  without 
direct  loss,  will  find  him  ready  to  consider  it.  If  he 
lives,  we  shall  surely  have  a railway  to  Khartoum,  and 
steamers  on  the  Victoria  and  Albert  Nyanzas.  The 
crown  prince,  Ibrahim,  is  said  to  be  a young  man  of 
sluggish  intellect  and  little  promise ; but  the  Khe- 
dive’s second  son,  Mohammed,  now  Minister  of  War, 
is  fully  his  father’s  equal  in  intelligence,  energy,  and 
ambition. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


FINAL  NOTES  FROM  EGYPT. 


Alexandria,  April  6. 


SOJOURN  of  three  weeks  in  Cairo  has  some- 


what reconciled  me  to  the  changes  in  the  physi- 
ognomy of  the  newer  half  of  the  city,  because  they  are 
the  signs  of  coming  change  in  the  public  and  domes- 
tic life  of  the  Orientals.  Simply  for  artistic  reasons, 
one  would  be  glad  to  keep  the  ancient  houses,  with 
their  carved  doorways,  their  pillared  courts,  and  the 
“hushed  seraglios”  beyond;  the  close,  irregular 
streets,  almost  always  in  shadow;  the  spicy,  twilight 
bazars;  and  the  long  lanes  where  craftsmen  of  one 
trade  work  and  gossip  at  the  same  time,  have  a fas- 
cinating stamp  of  the  old  Chalifate,  and  we  should 
lose  many  vivid  illustrations  of  past  history  in  losing 
them.  But  we  must  remember  that  many  of  these 
picturesque  features  belong  to  political  and  social  con- 
ditions which  either  have  ceased  or  soon  must  cease. 
The  dwelling,  for  instance,  represents  a secluded,  un- 
seen household  ; the  narrow  streets  are  synonymous 
with  disease  and  deformity;  the  localization  of  forms 
of  labor  is  a sign  of  caste. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  broad,  open  streets 
of  New  Cairo  mean  comfort  and  health  to  the  inhab- 


EGYPT. 


itants.  When  the  trees  now  planted  spread  an  arch 
of  shade  above  them,  and  the  garden  shrubs  have 
grown  into  bovvers,  the  plagues  of  sun  and  dust  will 
disappear.  Moreover,  the  rich  Egyptian,  who  in- 
habits a house  built  in  the  European  style,  cannot 
maintain  a wholly  invisible  harem.  His  wives,  w’ho 
already  begin  to  wear  the  white  vail  of  thin  Turkish 
gauze  instead  of  the  hideous  black  mask  of  the  Cairene 
women,  must  walk  in  gardens  or  sit  in  chambers  partly 
open  to  the  public  gaze.  One  such  garden,  on  the 
Shoobra  road,  is  even  adorned  with  Italian  statues  of 
nymphs  and  goddesses.  A few,  but  not  many,  of  the 
new  residences  are  surrounded  with  stone  walls  instead 
of  iron  railing.  The  education  of  girls  is  the  starting- 
point  ; the  example  of  European  women  is  another 
aid  ; but  the  reform — like  all  others  of  a domestic 
character — must  be  accomplished  with  very  little  aid 
from  the  men.  Polygamy  is  the  natural  tendency  of 
the  male  sex,  except  where  the  ethic  sense  has  reached 
a high  or  sensitive  point  of  development. 

I went  to  see  the  dancing  dervishes  again,  and  sat- 
isfied myself  that  the  performances  belong  to  the  same 
class  as  the  shouting,  leaping  up  and  down,  or  rolling 
and  dancing  excitements  which  were  once  quite  preva- 
lent in  Kentucky  and  other  Western  States.  They 
are  produced  by  a state  of  nervous  exaltation  (see  the 
lectures  of  Dr.  Brown-Sequard),  which  some  are  able 
to  produce  at  will,  and  by  which  others  are  infected. 
There  were  about  fifteen  dervishes  in  the  ring;  the 
movements  were  at  first  slow  and  languid,  though  a 
little  drum  and  two  inharmonious  flutes  did  what  was 


FINAL  NOTES  FROM  EGYPT. 


i45 


possible  to  quicken  them.  The  increase  in  the  rapid- 
ity of  the  gyrations  corresponds  exactly  with  the  rapt, 
absorbed,  blissful  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  dan- 
cers. There  was  a boy  of  seventeen,  dressed  in  pale- 
green  silk,  who  had  evidently  lost  all  sense  of  time 
and  place ; but  some  of  the  older  performers  had 
partly  exhausted  their  power  of  happy  abstraction,  and 
studied  the  spectators  out  of  the  corners  of  their  eyes. 
The  musical  accompaniment  is  an  innovation  ; so, 
also,  was  the  spectacle  of  an  English  artist,  making 
sketches  of  the  dervishes  in  their  characteristic  atti- 
tudes. 

Mr.  Hamilton  Wild,  of  Boston,  who  has  just  re- 
turned from  the  Second  Cataract,  brings  back  a col- 
lection of  Nilotic  studies  which  satisfy  me  better  than 
any  I have  yet  seen.  Most  artists  who  come  to  Egypt 
seek  for  strong,  not  to  say  violent,  effects  of  color;  yet 
the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  Egyptian  landscape 
is  a preponderance  of  the  sweetest  and  most  exquisite 
gray  tints.  The  sky  here  is  never  so  blue  as  in  Italy 
or  America ; the  clouds  are  rarely  seen  in  large,  shin- 
ing masses ; the  distances,  composed  mainly  of 
fawn-colored  sands  or  yellow-gray  mountains,  are  deli- 
cately subdued  in  tone — in  fact,  nothing  seems  to 
gleam  or  burn  except  the  fields  of  young  wheat,  as 
you  look  across  them  toward  the  sun.  It  is  a scale  of 
color  filled  with  most  subtle  and  almost  infinite  grada- 
tions. I am  glad  that  a competent  painter  has  at  last 
seen  the  real  instead  of  the  conventional  Egypt. 

I spoke  in  a former  letter  of  the  change  of  climate 
during  the  past  few  years.  A Winter  season  like  the 


146 


EGYPT. 


present  is  an  anomaly,  of  course,  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  average  Winter  temperature  in  Cairo 
and  the  Delta  is  lower  than  it  was  at  the  beginning  of 
the  century.  Since  the  foreign  population  has  so 
largely  increased,  we  find  also  that  the  sanitary  condi- 
tions of  the  country  have  been  under-estimated.  The 
hottest  months  are  May  and  June,  when  the  wind  is 
generally  from  the  south  and  sometimes  rises  into  a 
dry,  hot  hurricane,  which  last  two  or  three  days.  The 
rising  of  the  Nile  in  Ethiopia  seems  to  temper  the  at- 
mosphere for  two  or  three  weeks  in  advance  of  the  in- 
undation at  Cairo.  July  and  August  are  hot  during 
the  middle  hours  of  the  day,  but  have  pleasant  even- 
ings and  cool  nights,  and  are  not  unhealthy.  The 
chief  danger  of  fever  is  during  September  and  October, 
but  even  then  it  is  not  greater  than  in  most  of  the 
Italian  cities.  Our  Consul-General,  Mr.  Beardsley, 
intends  to  spend  the  coming  Summer  in  Cairo,  with 
his  family — a trial  of  the  climate,  last  year,  having 
satisfied  him  that  it  is  neither  unhealthy  nor  oppres- 
sively hot. 

The  comparatively  large  mortality  among  the  na- 
tives is  accounted  for  by  their  habits  of  life,  and  the 
low  state  of  the  healing  art.  The  boys  who  survive 
dirt,  privation,  opthalmia  and  other  diseases,  become 
as  good  physical  specimens  of  men  as  one  finds  in 
Italy  or  Spain.  The  population  of  Egypt  proper  was 
5,251,757,  on  the  eleventh  of  March,  1872  : it  has  prob- 
ably increased  about  half  a million  during  the  last  ten 
years  Nubia,  Ethiopia,  and  Soudan  add  about  2,000,- 
000  to  the  inhabitants  of  what  might  properly  be  call- 


FINAL  NOTES  FROM  EGYPT. 


147 


ed  the  Egyptian  Empire.  The  proportion  of  Copts  is 
about  one-tenth,  and  the  population  of  Frank  or  Eu- 
ropean birth  cannot  now  be  much  less  than  150,000. 

The  climate,  during  the  last  fortnight  of  our  stay  in 
Cairo,  was  simply  perfect.  To  the  raw  winds  and 
chilly  showers  succeeded  almost  cloudless  days,  fanned 
by  odorous  breezes  from  the  growing  gardens.  The 
temperature  ranged  between  70°  and  80°  in  the  shade 
at  noon,  falling  to  60°  in  the  evenings.  It  was  nei- 
ther too  warm  to  walk  in  the  sun,  nor  too  cool  to  sit 
in  the  shade.  Yet  the  unusual  weather  of  the  pre- 
ceding weeks  seemed  to  have  left  its  mark  in  the  shape 
of  coughs,  ailments  of  the  throat  and  rheumatic  pains. 
Day  by  day  the  dahabiyehs  returned  from  upper 
Egypt,  bringing  all  except  a few  belated  tourists,  and 
enticing  reports  of  the  wonderful  climate  of  the  The- 
bai'd.  Our  time  was  too  closely  measured,  however, 
to  allow  us  to  enjoy  the  remaining  ten  or  twenty  days 
of  delightful  weather,  before  the  khatnseen,  or  south- 
wind,  begins  to  blow. 

So  I took  another  leave  of  my  faithful  friend,  Ach- 
met  es-Saidi,  with  the  hope,  dependent  on  Allah’s 
will,  of  seeing  him  yet  once  more  ; and  we  returned 
to  Alexandria  across  the  bright  harvest-plains  of  the 
Delta.  We  patronized  the  slow  train,  as  before,  and 
found  it  equally  punctual. 

This  visit  of  a month,  after  so  many  years  of  ab- 
sence, has  richly  repaid  me.  The  revival  of  every  old 
interest  in  Egypt  in  a profounder  form  assures  me 
that  it  was  not  the  novelty  of  fresh  sensations,  the 
youthful  delight  in  a new  and  picturesque  life,  which 


143 


EGYPT. 


constitute  the  charm  of  the  land.  Some  far-off,  mag- 
netic power,  some  range  of  impressions  which  seem 
to  be  half  revelation  and  half  memory — as  of  a strain 
of  blood  which  carries  the  instinct  of  kinship  for 
thousands  of  years — -breathes  alike  from  pyramid  and 
palm-tree,  from  the  unchanging  features  of  the  wide 
landscapes  and  the  serene  quiet  of  the  sky.  It  is  not 
alone  that  the  idea  of  a passive  existence  is  suggested 
to  the  mind  as  possible  and  endurable  ; for  here  are 
the  earliest  records  of  any  higher  aspirations  in  the 
human  race — signs  of  the  grandest  struggle  and 
achievement.  We  know  the  mystery  preserved  in  the 
adyta  of  the  temples  and  concealed  behind  the  vail  of 
Sais  ; but  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  the  mys- 
tery of  Man  himself,  as  nowhere  else  in  the  world.  I 
do  not  clearly  know  what  it  is  that  so  draws,  allures, 
and  impresses  me. 

The  number  of  visitors  in  Egypt  from  all  countries 
has  immensely  increased  during  the  last  twenty  years. 
This  winter  there  have  been  almost  as  many  Germans 
as  English  and  Americans  ; but  the  latter  hire  daha- 
biyehs  by  the  month  and  travel  cn  seigneur,  while  the 
former  generally  content  themselves  with  a steamboat 
trip  to  the  First  Cataract  and  back.  The  expenses  of 
travel  have  considerably  increased ; for  a deliberate 
and  comfortable  Nile  trip,  in  fact,  they  have  more 
than  doubled.  The  hotel  charges  vary  from  twelve 
to  sixteen  English  shillings  a day  for  board  and  lodg- 
ing : the  steamboat  journey  of  three  weeks  costs  two 
hundred  and  thirty  dollars,  all  expenses  included  ; but 
a clean,  roomy,  and  convenient  Nile  boat,  for  from 


FINAL  NOTES  FROM  EGYPT. 


149 


three  to  five  persons,  cannot  now  be  hired  for  less 
than  five  hundred  dollars  per  month.  A party  of  three 
or  four  must  calculate  on  paying  a good  dragoman 
from  thirty  to  forty  dollars  per  day  for  all  expenses. 
As  the  voyage  to  Wadi  Haifa  and  back  occupies  three 
months,  it  must  now  be  classed  among  the  luxuries  of 
travel.  Outside  of  Cairo,  Alexandria,  and  Suez,  there 
are  very  scant  accommodations  for  travellers,  even  in 
the  larger  towns  of  the  Delta,  and  he  who  wishes  to 
examine  the  ruins  of  Bubastis,  Sais,  or  Tanis,  must 
still  take  his  portable  dwelling  with  him. 

We  leave  to-morrow  for  Naples  in  the  Italian 
steamer  Africa. 


PART  II. 


ICELAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  ICELAND. 

Aberdeen,  Scotland,  July  21,  1874. 

WHEN  I sailed  from  Alexandria,  a little  more  than 
three  months  ago,  nothing  was  further  from  my 
anticipation  than  that  I should  undertake  another  and 
much  more  unusual  journey,  before  returning  home. 
But  to  the  few  who  have  never  known  any  other  Alma 
Mater  than  the  New  York  Tribune: 

(“  Stern,  rugged  nurse,  thy  rigid  lore 
With  patience  many  a year  I bore  ! ”) — 

her  (or  its)  call  is  like  that  of  the  trumpet  unto  the 
war-horse.  Its  desire  wears  the  shape  of  duty,  and  I 
know  not  how  to  decline  that  which  it  is  still  possible 
to  do.  So  the  homeward  tickets  must  be  taken  for  a 
month  later,  and,  after  hasty  preparation,  here  I sit 
already  beside  the  North  Sea,  bound  for  a latitude 
which  I never  meant  to  reach  again. 

Not  that  there  is  no  interest  in  Iceland  itself.  On 
the  contrary,  the  handful  of  old  Scandinavians  there 
preserve  for  the  scholars  of  our  day  a philological  and 
historical  interest  such  as  no  equal  number  of  men 
have  ever  achieved  in  the  annals  of  the  world.  A 
thousand  years  ago  they  cut  loose  from  Europe,  and 


154 


ICELAND. 


carried  the  most  virile  element  of  its  Past  almost  out 
of  the  reach  of  later  changes.  But  Iceland  is  so  re- 
mote from  us,  in  an  intellectual  as  well  as  a material 
sense,  that  any  satisfactory  knowledge  of  it  requires  a 
special  appropriation  of  time  and  study.  The  only 
Americans  competent  to  make  the  journey  with  the 
certainty  of  reaping  a full  reward  for  their  time  and  la- 
bor, are  George  P.  Marsh  and  Prof.  Willard  Fiske,  of 
Cornell  University.  I confess  that  I never  understood 
the  separate,  isolated  character  of  Icelandic  research 
until  within  the  past  month,  while  endeavoring  to  as- 
certain how  much  of  its  language  and  lore  are  acces- 
sible to  one  who  has  learned  something  of  modern 
Danish  and  Swedish. 

The  one  thousandth  anniversary  of  IngolPs  landing 
— the  first  settlement  of  Iceland — has  brought  the 
bleak  Northern  island  so  suddenly  into  the  circle  of 
general  interest  that  many  readers  will  welcome  a 
variety  of  details  from  which,  at  other  times,  they 
would  turn  away.  I shall  take  advantage  of  this  cir- 
cumstance, and  prepare,  during  the  voyage,  a brief 
historical  outline  which  may  serve  as  an  introduction 
to  the  millennial  festival.  As  yet,  however,  I can 
scarcely  realize  that  I am  actually  on  the  way,  and 
must  ask  the  reader  to  be  content  with  a few  rapid 
notes  of  the  journey  up  to  this  point. 

Although  it  is  only  six  years  since  I last  saw  Lon- 
don, the  mighty  capital  has  changed  quite  as  much  as 
New  York  is  accustomed  to  do  in  the  same  space  of 
time.  Certainly,  under  a clear  Summer  sun,  with  so 
little  coal-smoke  that  the  dome  of  St.  Paul’s  can  be 


ON  THE  IV A V TO  ICELAND. 


155 


seen  six  miles  away,  with  new  thoroughfares  cut 
through  the  narrow  and  tangled  old  alleys,  and  gay 
suburbs  planted  wherever  you  remember  a field  or 
common,  the  city  seems  to  have  become  a soberer 
Paris.  The  embankment  along  the  Thames,  with  its 
spacious  drive,  its  trees  and  gardens,  is  an  astonishing 
embellishment;  but  in  all  other  quarters  a similar 
work  is  going  on — a more  cheerful  style  of  architec- 
ture, greater  use  of  color  and  ornament,  ampler 
space  and  air,  more  abundant  signs  of  a cosmopolitan 
diversity  of  taste  and  habit. 

A kindred  change  is  slowly  creeping  upon  the  peo- 
ple. The  Englishman  (if  not  more  than  sixty  years 
old)  is  decidedly  a mellower  and  more  sympathetic 
creature  than  he  was  twenty  years  ago.  My  experience 
during  the  past  two  years  on  the  Continent  indicates 
that  it  is  rather  easier  to  become  acquainted  with 
English  than  with  American  travellers.  Outside  of  a 
certain  range  of  conventionalities  (constantly  growing 
smaller),  the  former  are  generally  very  free,  cordial, 
and  companionable.  I do  not  suppose  that  we,  as 
Americans,  are  specially  liked,  but,  if  we  are  not 
courteously  treated,  it  is  pretty  sure  to  be  our  own 
fault.  Neither  the  remark  which  Goldwin  Smith  was 
reported  to  have  made,  nor  its  reverse,  is  true.  In 
fact,  with  the  closer  intercourse  which  now  exists,  hate, 
from  one  side,  would  be  almost  a compliment  to  the 
other. 

Formerly,  on  returning  to  England  from  Germany 
or  France,  there  was  a striking  increase  in  the  ex- 
penses of  living  and  travel.  This  distinction  has  now 


156 


ICELAND. 


ceased  : the  cost  of  many  things  has  diminished  there, 
while  that  of  others  has  risen  there.  On  principle,  I 
never  patronize  the  large,  new,  shiny,  and  showy 
hotels,  and  am  unacquainted  with  their  scales  of  prices; 
but  at  an  ancient  hostelry  in  London,  where  Nelson 
lodged  for  the  last  time  on  English  soil,  where  the  old- 
fashioned  coach-and-four  pulls  up  every  afternoon,  as 
it  dashes  in  from  the  country,  I can  make  myself  very 
comfortable  for  about  four  dollars  per  day.  And  in 
London  it  makes  much  less  difference  where  one 
lodges  than  in  New  York. 

The  English  railways,  however,  are  slow  to  intro- 
duce necessary  innovations.  They  have  not  yet  made 
up  their  minds  to  check  baggage,  and  are  hesitating 
about  the  sleeping-car.  The  night  express,  from 
Euston-square  to  Edinburgh,  was  the  perfection  of 
speed  and  smoothness:  we  made  the  four  hundred  and 
one  miles  in  a little  less  than  ten  hours : but  there  were 
only  the  old  chances  of  sleep  and  rest.  I believe  there 
is  a sleeping-car  on  one  of  the  roads  to  Scotland,  al- 
though, as  no  one  seemed  to  be  positive,  I did  not  try 
to  find  it.  In  all  other  arrangements  the  English 
roads  certainly  surpass  ours.  The  guards  (conductors), 
station  officials,  and  porters,  are  the  most  courteous 
and  obliging  of  their  several  tribes.  They  seem  never 
to  forget  each  passenger’s  needs,  nor  to  grow  impa- 
tient of  his  much  questioning. 

Leaving  a clear,  hot  sky,  and  a temperature  of  90° 
at  London,  we  found  gray,  moist  clouds  hanging  over 
the  Scottish  Lowlands,  and  at  Edinburgh  that  pecu- 
liar pearly,  silvery  atmosphere  which  has  given  its 


ON  THE  WA  V TO  ICELAND. 


157 


character  to  English  landscape  art.  Various  Ameri- 
can flags  were  flying,  as  a friendly  greeting  to  one  of 
Cook’s  parties,  and  although  Donald,  of  the  clan  of 
Macgregor,  did  not  pay  us  that  compliment  at  the 
Royal  Hotel,  his  printed  poetical  salutation — with  a 
copy  of  “ The  moon’s  on  the  lake,  and  the  mist’s  on 
the  brae,”  words  and  music — was  quite  as  welcome. 
In  order  to  appear  as  Scotch  as  possible,  we  ordered 
broiled  salmon  for  breakfast,  and  spoke  with  a lilt  to 
the  waiters.  Ere  long,  however,  Mr.  Cyrus  Field  ar- 
rived, in  company  with  his  friend,  Mr.  William  Nel- 
son, the  famous  publisher,  and  we  were  then  joined 
by  Herr  Hjaltalin  of  Iceland. 

The  preparations  for  the  trip  were  so  nearly  com- 
pleted that  our  inspection  of  the  steamer  at  Leith  was 
a matter  of  form  rather  than  necessity.  The  Edin- 
burgh and  London  Shipping  Company  have  most 
generously  offered  to  Mr.  Field  the  use  of  their  steam- 
yacht,  the  Albion,  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  tons, 
and  Captain  Howling,  mariner  and  gentleman,  took 
upon  himself  the  charge  of  provisioning  her  for  the 
cruise.  Our  party  at  Edinburgh  was  only  four — Mr. 
Field,  Murat  Halstead  of  The  Cincinnati  Commercial, 
Dr.  I.  I.  Hayes,  and  myself.  The  others,  Mr.  Glad- 
stone (son  of  the  ex-Premier),  and  Professor  Magnus- 
sen  of  Cambridge,  agreed  to  join  us  at  Aberdeen. 
Dr.  Kneeland  of  Boston,  who  preceded  us  to  Edin- 
burgh, decided  to  sail  from  Leith  with  the  steamer, 
while  we  proceeded  to  Aberdeen  by  rail.  We  shall 
thus  be  a company  of  seven — five  Americans,  one 
Englishman,  and  one  Icelander. 


158 


ICELAND. 


Mr.  Nelson’s  hospitality  at  Hope  Park,  his  charm- 
ing residence  at  the  foot  of  Arthur’s  Seat,  was  the 
crown  of  our  brief  stay  in  Edinburgh ; but  early  in 
the  afternoon  we  were  forced  to  leave,  Messrs.  Field 
and  Halstead  having  agreed  to  make  a rapid  trip  over 
the  Grampians  to  Braemar  and  Balmoral,  while  Dr. 
Hayes  and  myself  stopped  at  Perth  for  the  night,  and 
came  on  to  Aberdeen  this  morning. 

I have  never  before  been  further  north  than  Stirling, 
and  hence  was  not  prepared  for  the  exceeding  loveli- 
ness and  richness  of  this  part  of  Scotland.  So  much 
of  the  old  moorlands  have  been  reclaimed  that  Mac- 
beth’s witches  would  now  have  some  difficulty  in  find- 
ing a place  to  meet.  From  the  Grampians  to  the 
Sidlaw  hills  the  eye  detects  no  waste  or  ragged  point; 
all  is  cultivated  to  the  highest  pitch  of  smoothness  and 
cleanness.  Even  the  sheep  and  cattle  in  the  fields 
seem  to  have  been  newly  washed.  Passing  Birnam, 
on  the  left,  and  Dunsinane  on  the  right,  you  come  to 
Glamis,  and  the  castle,  surrounded  by  deep,  rich 
groves,  hath  truly  a pleasant  seat.  I looked  in  vain 
for  a kilted  laborer  in  the  fields ; all  wore  trowsers. 
At  Laurencekirk  there  was  an  “ Agricultural  Show,” 
and  a large  collection  of  the  people  ; but  the  pictur- 
esque features  of  Scotland  were  wanting. 

At  Stonehaven  the  railway  comes  down  to  the  sea- 
side, and  goes  onward  to  Aberdeen  along  the  crest  of 
high  granite  cliffs,  whence  there  are  inspiring  views 
over  the  North  Sea,  which  is  to-day  as  blue  and  quiet 
as  the  Mediterranean.  I caught  a glimpse  of  the  es- 
tate ofUrie,  or  Ury,  where  once  lived  Robert  Barclay, 


ON  THE  W A Y TO  ICELAND.  159 

the  friend  of  William  Penn,  and  the  author  of  the 
“Apology  for  the  Quakers.”  The  place  now  belongs 
to  Mr.  Alexander  Baird,  but  the  Barclay  family  is  still 
in  existence  in  the  neighborhood.  “Barclay  of  Urie  ” 
is  a strikingly  noble  and  picturesque  character:  in 
him  the  vigor  of  the  old  Norse  blood  is  nowise  weak- 
ened through  his  advocacy  of  the  doctrine  of  peace. 

After  many  delays  to  the  train,  we  finally  reached 
Aberdeen,  a city  of  90,000  inhabitants,  and  built  al- 
most wholly  of  gray  granite.  The  color  and  solidity 
of  the  material  give  the  place  a sober  and  rather  dig- 
nified air,  and  there  is  less  bustle  and  movement  in 
the  streets  than  one  would  expect,  considering  its 
commercial  importance.  It  is  nevertheless  an  agree- 
able atmosphere.  You  feel  the  presence  of  a sound 
and  bracing  element,  without  being  excited  or  driven 
at  too  fast  a pace.  I shall  probably  have  no  chance 
of  seeing  the  environs,  or  of  making  any  acquaintan- 
ces ; so  you  must  be  satisfied  with  this  first  general 
impression. 

The  Albion,  with  Dr.  Kneeland,  arrived  early  this 
morning,  and  now  (9  p.  M.)  Messrs.  Field  and  Hal- 
stead make  their  appearance,  soaked  with  Highland 
rain,  and  bearing  bunches  of  heather.  We  hoped 
to  have  touched  at  Wick,  and  carried  John  Bright 
across  to  the  Orkneys ; but  he  has  given  up  the  trip. 
We  shall  probably  touch  also  at  the  Shetland  and  Faroe 
Islands,  whence  I shall  have  opportunities  of  reporting 
progress. 


CHAPTER  II. 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND’S  HISTORY, 


Orkney  Islands,  July  23 


HE  afternoon  train  brought  to  Aberdeen  yesterday 


A-  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Mr.  William  Nelson,  our 
Edinburgh  host,  who  decided  at  the  last  moment  to 
accompany  us  as  far  as  the  Shetland  Islands.  Every- 
thing else  being  in  readiness,  Captain  Howling  of  the 
A/bion  requested  us  to  go  with  him  in  a body  to 
the  Local  Marine  Office,  for  the  purpose  of  being 
entered”  or  “inscribed,”  according  to  law.  The 
Albion  not  being  a passenger  steamer,  it  seemed  that 
she  could  only  take  us  on  board  on  condition  of  our 
being  registered  as  regular  seamen  ! — a hollow  techni- 
cality, of  course,  but  it  satisfied  the  law. 

The  officials  had  evidently  been  prepared  for  the 
nature  of  their  duty,  when  we  reached  the  Local 
Marine  Office,  for  there  was  a general  smile  and  the 
most  hearty  politeness.  We  signed  something  (I  have 
not  the  slightest  idea  what  it  was),  adding  our  ages 
and  places  of  birth,  after  which  something  else  was 
rapidly  and  mechanically  read,  to  the  effect  that  we 
would  obey  the  captain,  would  conduct  ourselves  with 
decency  and  order  whenever  we  went  ashore,  and 
would  observe  all  the  regulations  applicable  to  persons 


G 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND'S  HISTORY.  161 


in  marine  service.  One  of  the  party  inquired  whethei 
there  was  any  fee  ; whereupon,  the  official,  with  an 
additional  smile,  informed  us  that,  on  the  contrary, 
we  would  be  entitled  to  a backsheesh  of  one  shilling 
per  month,  if  we  returned  without  having  made  our- 
selves amenable  to  the  mutiny  laws  during  our  ab- 
sence ! This  was  comforting — and,  inasmuch  as  the 
regulations  were  not  administered  in  the  form  of  an 
oath,  we  left  the  office  without  any  special  weight  on 
our  consciences. 

By  this  time  a slow,  drizzling  rain  had  set  in,  and 
we  made  haste  to  get  on  board  the  steamer.  A small 
crowd  of  men  and  boys  collected  to  see  us  off,  and 
were  evidently  a little  startled  when  we  gave  three 
farewell  cheers.  The  only  enthusiastic  respondent 
was  a gamin  with  an  empty  coffee-bag,  which  he 
waved  wildly  around  his  head,  as  he  rushed  along  the 
pier,  following  us.  There  was  a little  delay  at  the 
dock  gates,  another  crowd  of  curious  spectators,  and 
finally,  between  six  and  seven  o’clock,  we  issued  into 
the  outer  bay,  and  thence  into  the  open  sea. 

The  clouds  hung  low,  with  watery  gleams  of  sun  be- 
tween them  ; the  waves  hardly  rocked  under  our  keel, 
and  so  we  sped  northward,  skirting  the  coast  to  Peter- 
head, whence  the  Scotch  shore  trends  abruptly  west- 
ward, and  our  course  lay  northward  for  the  Orkneys. 
The  night  was  exquisitely  calm  and  mild  ; and  now, 
in  the  early  morning,  as  I go  on  deck,  I see  the  inter- 
rupted lines  of  the  far,  ancient  Orcades  rising  above  the 
horizon  line.  In  three  or  four  hours  we  shall  reach 
Kirkwall,  the  capital,  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Pomona, 


162 


ICELAND. 


or  Mainland,  the  largest  island,  where  we  propose 
spending  the  rest  of  the  day.  In  the  meantime,  let  me 
collect  my  scattered  historical  notes  of  Iceland,  and 
give  the  promised  brief  outline  which  the  reader  has  a 
right  to  demand,  in  order  the  better  to  comprehend 
the  story  of  a thousand  years,  now  about  to  be  com- 
memorated. 

The  earliest  history  of  Iceland  is  something  like  the 
picture  which  most  travellers  give  of  the  first  sight  of 
its  shores — a land  glimmering  for  a moment  through 
mist  and  cloud,  disappearing,  reappearing,  and  then 
hiding  itself  for  hours  as  if  reluctant  to  be  discovered. 
Wherever  the  famous  Ultima  Thule  of  the  ancients 
may  have  been,  it  was  certainly  not  Iceland.  The 
Irish  monk,  Dicuil,  in  a chronicle  the  date  of  which  is 
referred  to  the  year  825,  states  that  just  one  hundred 
years  before  (A.  D.  725),  some  Irish  priests,  sailing  for 
two  days  and  nights  due  northward  from  Ireland,  dis- 
covered some  islands  in  the  sea.  I am  not  acquainted 
with  any  earlier  record  of  exploration. 

Dicuil  relates  that  Irish  hermits  settled  on  these 
islands,  and  occupied  them  until  they  were  discovered 
by  the  Norse  Vikings,  when  the  former  thought  it  bet- 
ter to  leave.  In  825  the  islands  were  uninhabited, 
save  by  great  numbers  of  sheep,  whence  the  name, 
Far-Oer — Sheep  Islands.  Before  this  latter  date,  how- 
ever, Iceland  also  had  been  discovered  by  the  wander- 
ing Irish  monks,  and  various  traditions  concur  in  men- 
tioning the  year  795  as  the  date  of  this  event.  The 
intercourse  between  Norway,  the  Shetlands,  Orkneys 
and  Hebrides!  must  have  made  both  discoveries  known 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND'S  HISTORY.  163 

to  the  Norsemen.  The  Irish  appear  to  have  used  Ice- 
land as  a sort  of  Thebaid,  where  the  zealous  anchorites 
of  that  day  could  withdraw  from  the  world  without  the 
least  chance  of  being  ever  disturbed.  It  was,  a singu- 
lar perversion  of  Christianity  which  sent  them  to  that 
Northern  wilderness,  to  delight  the  God  of  Humanity 
by  abjuring  all  knowledge  of,  or  sympathy  with,  their 
brother  men. 

Early  in  the  year  861  the  Norwegian  rover,  Grim 
Gamle  (Old  Grimes  !),  rediscovered  the  Faroe  Islands. 
When  he  brought  the  news  to  Norway,  a famous  Vi- 
king by  the  name  of  Naddodd  set  forth  to  take  posses- 
sion of  the  new  territory,  but  was  driven  by  storm  to 
the  coast  of  Iceland  before  the  close  of  the  same  year. 
The  mountains  being  all  covered  with  snow,  he  called 
the  land  Snjbland  (Snow-land).  Three  years  after- 
ward, (in  864,)  Gardar,  a Swede,  sailing  for  the  Heb- 
rides to  take  possession  of  an  inheritance  which  had 
fallen  to  his  wife,  was  also  driven  by  adverse  winds  to 
the  shores  of  Iceland.  He  landed,  afterward  sailed 
entirely  around  the  island,  and  gave  it  the  name  of 
Gardarsholm. 

In  867,  Floke  of  Norway,  in  consequence  of  the  re- 
ports given  by  Naddodd  and  Gardar,  sailed  directly 
for  Iceland.  The  flight  of  a raven,  which  he  let  loose 
at  sea,  served  him  as  a guide.  He  found  the  island, 
and  on  account  of  the  quantity  of  drifting  ice  on  the 
northern  coast,  gave  it  the  name  of  Iceland,  which 
from  that  time  was  adopted  by  the  Norsemen.  The 
position  and  size  of  the  island  being  now  generally 
known,  Ingolf,  of  Norway,  sailed  thither  in  870,  on  a 


164 


ICELAND. 


voyage  of  exploration,  the  results  of  which  are  not  re- 
corded. We  only  know  that  he  returned  to  Norway, 
killed  a man,  and  in  order  to  escape  the  blood-revenge, 
sailed  again  for  Iceland  in  his  own  ship,  in  the  year 
874.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  brother-in-law, 
Leif  of  the  Sword,  and  the  families  and  servants  of 
both.  They  landed  at  Rejkianes  (not  far  from  Rej- 
iavik,  the  present  capital),  and  there  made  a settle- 
ment. It  is  thus  exactly  a thousand  years,  this  Sum- 
mer, since  the  Scandinavians  first  planted  themselves 
on  Iceland. 

The  wars  of  Harald  Haarfager  (Fair-hair)  with  the 
three  rival  kings  of  Norway  occasioned  the  emigra- 
tion of  other  families  to  Iceland;  and  after  Harald’s 
victory  near  Stavanger,  in  885,  so  many  left  that  the 
King,  fearing  that  Norway  would  be  depopulated,  im- 
posed a heavy  fine  upon  the  emigrants.  The  latter 
were  mostly  Jarls  or  ruling  nobles,  Herser  or  inferior 
nobles,  and  the  Bonder,  or  farmers.  They  were  the 
best  blood  of  the  race,  and  seem  to  have  taken  with 
them  its  purest  Gothic  elements.  They  were  attracted 
to  Iceland  by  the  certainty  of  political  freedom,  no 
less  than  by  the  reported  mildness  of  the  climate  and 
the  abundance  of  salmon  and  other  fish.  Some  ac- 
counts also  speak  of  abundant  forests.  Many  Danes, 
Swedes,  and  families  from  Ireland  and  the  Heb- 
rides followed  the  first  emigration,  so  that  in  sixty 
years  (by  934)  all  the  habitable  part  of  the  island  was 
settled.  The  population  was  then  probably  as  large 
as  it  has  been  at  any  time  since. 

We  find  no  incident  of  general  interest  in  the  his- 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND'S  HISTORY.  165 

tory  of  Iceland  until  the  year  982,  when  Bishop  Fri- 
drek  and  Thorvald  Kodrenson  first  preached  Chris- 
tianity, and  when  Erik  the  Red,  banished  by  the 
Thing,  or  assembly  of  representatives  of  the  people, 
sailed  for  Greenland,  where  he  made  a settlement  on 
the  Eireksfjord.  The  coast  of  Greenland  had  been 
seen,  but  only  seen,  by  Gunnbjorn,  as  early  as  876  or 
877.  After  the  migration  thither  of  Erik  the  Red,  the 
southern  coast  became  gradually  colonized.  A series 
of  remarkable  discoveries  followed  in  rapid  succession, 
and  the  chronicles  of  the  times  leave  us  in  equal  ad- 
miration of  the  daring  of  the  Norse  sea-chiefs  an-d 
amazement  that  their  great  achievements  should  have 
been  practically  lost  to  the  world. 

I can  only  give  the  briefest  outline  of  these  discov- 
eries; they  form  a separate  chapter  of  Icelandic  his- 
tory, concerning  the  island  much  less  than  our  own 
land.  In  986,  Bjarne  Herjulfson,  sailing  from  Iceland 
to  Greenland,  was  driven  southward  by  storms,  and 
first  saw  the  mainland  of  America,  probably  a part  of 
Labrador.  In  1000,  Lief,  the  son  of  Erik  the  Red, 
fitted  out  an  expedition  to  seek  this  new  land.  He 
first  reached  Newfoundland,  to  which  he  gave  the 
name  of  Helluland,  then  Nova  Scotia,  which  he  called 
Markland,  from  its  abundant  forests,  and,  finally,  pass- 
ing Nantucket,  he  made  his  way  to  the  mouth  of  Taun- 
ton River,  and  there  built  houses.  Here  was  the  Vin- 
land  (Wine  Land),  whither,  for  twelve  years,  the  Norse- 
men came  both  from  Iceland  and  Greenland.”  It  was 

* Prof.  Fiske  considers  that  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  best 
corresponds  to  the  accounts  of  Vinland  in  the  ancient  nar- 
ratives. 


1 66 


ICELAND. 


probably  their  own  jealousies  and  dissensions,  rather 
than  the  hostility  of  the  native  tribes,  which  prevented 
them  from  making  a permanent  settlement. 

Some  of  the  discoverers,  especially  Thorvald  Eriks- 
son, explored  our  coast  as  far  southward  as  Chesa- 
peake Bay.  Thorfinn  Karlsefne,  another  of  the  tem- 
porary settlers,  had  a son,  Snorre  Thorfinnson,  born 
in  Vinland,  and  I remember  to  have  seen  a statement, 
long  ago,  that  the  sculptor  Thorwaldsen  was  a de- 
scendant of  this  first  native  American.  More  than  a 
ceutury  later,  in  1121,  Bishop  Erik  Upsi,  of  Greenland, 
made  a voyage  to  Vinland,  but  no  account  of  it  has 
yet  been  discovered.  In  1356,  a vessel  went  from 
Greenland  to  Nova  Scotia  for  timber,  and  was  blown 
by  stress  of  weather  to  Iceland  on  its  return.  It  is  im- 
possible that  the  knowledge  of  these  voyages  should 
not  have  been  current  in  Iceland  in  1477,  when  Colum- 
bus, sailing  in  a ship  from  Bristol,  England,  visited  the 
island.  As  he  was  able  to  converse  with  the  priests 
and  learned  men  in  Latin,  he  undoubtedly  learned  of 
the  existence  of  another  continent  to  the  west  and 
south  ; and  this  knowledge,  not  the  mere  fanaticism 
of  a vague  belief,  supported  him  during  many  years 
of  disappointment. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  proper  history  of  Iceland. 
Christianity,  after  being  adopted  in  Norway,  required 
but  a few  years  to  overcome  the  waning  and  weakened 
Scandinavian  faith.  In  996,  it  was  preached  again 
by  Stefner,  and  during  the  following  year  Thangbrand, 
a German  monk,  went  on  a special  mission  to  Iceland. 
The  work  advanced  so  rapidly  that  in  the  year  1000 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND'S  HISTORY.  167 

(that  of  Leif  Eriksson’s  discovery  of  Vinland),  the 
lawgiver  of  Iceland,  Thorgeir,  decreed  the  legal  es- 
tablishment of  the  Christian  faith  and  the  Christian 
worship.  Although  he  was  bribed  to  this  step  by  the 
missionary  Thormod,  who  gave  him  sixty- five  marks 
of  silver  to  advocate  its  adoption  by  the  Volksthing, 
or  Assembly  of  the  People,  the  population  must  have 
been  quite  ready  for  such  a change.  Five  articles 
were  adopted,  as  follows : 

1.  All  inhabitants  of  the  island  shall  accept  Chris- 
tianity, and  whoever  in  the  land  is  still  unbaptized 
shall  receive  baptism. 

2.  The  temple  and  images  of  the  Gods  shall  be 
destroyed. 

3.  If  any  one  be  convicted  by  witnesses  of  having 
publicly  made  offerings  to  the  Gods,  or  worshipped 
their  images,  he  shall  be  banished  from  the  land. 

4.  But  should  he  do  these  things  secretly , he  shall 
suffer  no  punishment.  (!) 

5.  The  old  laws  concerning  the  exposure  of  children 
the  eating  of  horseflesh,  and  all  others  which  do  not 
overthrow  Christianity,  shall  remain  in  force. 

In  1056,  Iceland  received  a Bishop,  Isleif.  He  was 
succeeded,  in  1096,  by  his  son  Gizor,  also  a married 
man,  who  made  Skalholt  the  seat  of  the  Bishopric. 

The  rich  and  marvellous  literary  age  of  Iceland 
began  soon  after  the  establishment  of  Christianity, 
when  the  art  of  writing  was  introduced  and  schools 
were  opened  in  all  parts  of  the  island.  The  easy  form 
of  Christianity  inaugurated  in  1000,  changed  little  in 
the  habits  or  tastes  of  the  people.  The  “ exposure  of 


i6S 


ICELAND. 


children,”  for  example,  was  a liberty  allowed  the  father, 
either  to  accept  a child  at  its  birth,  or  to  carry  it  to  a 
waste  place,  to  perish  by  hunger  and  cold  or  be  de- 
voured by  wild  animals. 

The  change  of  faith,  therefore,  still  allowed  the  oral 
sagas  to  exist — nay,  affected  their  conversion  into  per- 
manent chronicles,  at  a time  when  the  greater  part  of 
such  literature,  in  Scandinavia  and  Germany,  was 
suppressed  by  monkish  influences.  The  manuscript 
literature  of  Iceland  is  probably,  at  the  present  time, 
the  richest  in  the  world ; for,  when  the  art  of  writing 
was  introduced,  it  was  the  only  land  in  Christendom 
where  the  laymen  were  more  zealous  scholars  and  au- 
thors than  the  monks.  As  the  chronicles  were  pro- 
duced, they  were  written  on  parchment,  copied,  and 
read  all  over  the  island.  Many  a low  Icelandic  cabin 
still  contains  annals,  lays  and  epics,  which  have  never 
yet  seen  the  light. 

The  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  centuries 
witnessed  the  beginning,  growth,  and  glory  of  the  Ice- 
landic literature.  Saemund,  who  wrote  the  Edda  now 
called  by  his  name,  died  in  1133,  and  forty-five  years 
later  Snorre  Sturluson,  the  famous  author  of  the 
Heimskringla,  was  born.  In  1213,  he  was  chosen 
Lawgiver  of  Iceland,  and  in  1241  was  assassinated  in 
a family  quarrel.  His  death  marks,  not  precisely  the 
end  of  the  great  literary  epoch,  but  the  end  of  its 
best  production. 

Up  to  this  time — for  nearly  four  centuries — Iceland 
had  been  an  independent  state,  divided  into  districts 
which  possessed  a patriarchal,  chiefly  hereditary  form 


A SKETCH  OF  ICELAND'S  HISTORY.  i6g 


of  local  government,  yet  united  in  the  representative 
assembly  of  the  Althing,  which  held  its  sessions  an- 
nually in  the  Thingvally,  near  Rejkiavik.  But  at  last 
this  semi-republican  nation  dissolved,  as  formerly  the 
Hellenic  confederation,  through  internal  dissensions. 
The  local  magnates,  many  of  them  descended  from 
powerful  Norwegian  jarls,  gradually  became  involved 
in  murderous  quarrels.  Some  of  them  rode  to  the 
.Althing  attended  by  seven  hundred  or  even  twelve 
hundred  armed  followers.  In  a single  fight  be- 
tween two  rivals  one  hundred  and  ten  men  were 
slain.  Not  only  the  isolated  mansions  were  burned, 
but  entire  districts  were  laid  waste  in  this  suicidal 
strife. 

Finally,  exhausted,  bleeding,  weary  of  her  own  dis- 
cord, Iceland  fell  an  easy  prey  to  the  machinations  of 
a small  party,  which,  in  the  year  1262,  acknowledged 
allegiance  to  Hakon  VI.,  the  King  of  Norway.  All 
publicity  in  the  administration  of  affairs,  even  all 
interest  therein,  ceased  suddenly  and  for  a long  time. 
The  voice  of  the  Sagaman  became  silent,  for  there 
were  no  more  heroic  deeds.  A little  more  than  a 
century  later — in  1380 — Iceland  fell  with  Norway,  by 
inheritance,  to  Denmark,  and  has  since  then  been  a 
stepmotherly  treated  possession  of  Denmark. 

Here  my  hasty  chronicles  must  cease  for  to-day. 
The  anchor  drops  in  the  harbor  of  Kirkwall,  and  the 
fairest  of  Northern  days  invites  us  ashore.  More  to- 
morrow ! 


CHAPTER  III. 


A DAY  AT  THE  ORKNEYS. 

Lerwick,  Shetland  Isles,  July  24. 

XCEPT  the  westernmost  island  of  Hoy,  which  lifts 
-®— - ' a defiant  front,  one  thousand  one  hundred  feet  in 
height,  toward  Scotland,  the  Orkneys  are  rather  a low- 
lying  group.  The  shores  rise  gradually  from  rocky 
hems,  fringed  with  breakers,  until  their  long  lines 
merge  into  blunt,  broad  summits.  Near  the  shore 
there  are  bright  green  fields  of  oats  or  barley,  but 
higher  up  is  a uniform  tint  of  greenish  gray  or  brown. 
The  strait  between  Pomona,  the  main  island,  and 
Shapinshay  is  tolerably  straight  and  tame,  its  chief 
feature  being  the  gray,  turreted  pile  of  Balfour  Castle, 
on  the  right.  Just  opposite,  an  arm  or  bay  opens 
westward  to  Kirkwall,  the  capital  of  the  Orkneys. 

By  nine  o’clock  the  steamer  dropped  anchor  in  the 
shallow  harbor.  The  American  flag  at  the  fore — an 
unusual  sight  in  these  waters — drew  a small  crowd  to 
the  end  of  the  pier,  and  we  were  all  mustered  by  curi- 
ous eyes  as  we  landed.  Mr.  Nelson,  our  Edinburgh 
friend,  attracted  a very  marked  attention,  but  the 
secret  thereof  soon  leaked  out;  he  had  been  taken  for 
the  Right  Hon.  John  Bright ! Curiosity  is  pardonable 


A DAY  AT  THE  ORKNE  KS.  171 

in  such  an  out-of-the-way  place  as  Kirkwall : it  was 
friendly,  good-natured*  never  intrusive,  and  we  pres- 
ently learned  how  to  turn  it  to  good  service.  Every 
question  was  eagerly  answered  by  half  a dozen  listen- 
ers; whatever  we  wanted  or  needed  to  see  was  made 
accessible  ; obliging  friends  seemed  to  be  lying  in  wait 
at  each  corner,  and  thus  no  moment  of  our  brief  time 
was  squandered. 

It  seemed  to  be  neither  an  English  nor  a Scotch 
town  which  we  were  traversing.  The  houses  of  gray 
stone,  with  their  pointed  gables  and  high  chimneys, 
suggested  Normandy.  Narrow,  winding  streets, 
paved  with  large,  flat  slabs,  led  inward  from  the  wa- 
ter-side, and,  after  some  five  minutes,  we  issued  upon 
an  open  square,  deserted  and  partly  grass-grown,  on 
one  side  of  which  rose  the  massive  pile  of  the  old 
Norse  cathedral. 

A one-legged  sacristan  came  upon  his  crutches,  and 
unlocked  the  main  entrance,  before  we  had  half  done 
admiring  the  ivy-leafed  capitals  of  the  clustering  at- 
tached columns.  The  interior  is  plainly  grand,  and 
would  be  still  more  imposing  were  the  chancel  not 
completely  walled  up  to  the  vaulted  roof,  in  order 
to  shut  out  the  diminished  modern  congregation 
from  the  chill  and  dampness  of  the  ancient  church. 
The  eastern  part  of  the  nave,  which  was  built  about 
the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  is  a large,  beauti- 
fully-proportioned specimen  of  the  Early  Gothic.  The 
pillars  are  circular  and  massive,  but  the  roof  is  a true 
Gothic  arch.  One  is  surprised  to  find  such  a structure 
here,  where  all  the  present  population  might  easily  be 


172 


ICELAND. 


gathered  within  its  walls.  At  the  time  it  was  built, 
however,  the  Jarls  of  Orkney  were  daring  sea-robbers, 
and  the  cathedral  was  no  doubt  chiefly  built  by  un- 
willing contributions. 

The  limit  of  our  stay  only  allowed  us  to  undertake 
an  excursion  to  Maeshow.  a noted  Piet  and  Norse 
sepulchre  between  nine  and  ten  miles  from  Kirkwall. 
The  Castle  Hotel  furnished  a conveyance  for  all  ; the 
way  was  hard,  smooth,  and  of  easy  grade,  and  we 
bowled  along  at  the  rate  of  seven  miles  an  hour,  en- 
joying the  exquisitely  pure  and  cool  air,  yet  (it  must 
be  said)  a little  disappointed  in  the  scenery  of  Orkney. 
The  fields  on  either  hand  showed  us  grass,  or  oats,  or 
potatoes,  or  turnips  ; gorse,  heather,  or  dry  bunch- 
grass  occupied  the  ridges  above  them.  Here  and 
there  some  men  were  hoeing  or  herding  ; sleek,  soft- 
colored  cattle  were  feeding  on  the  short  grass,  and 
haymakers  were  piling  the  dry  swaths  into  cocks. 
The  sea-channel,  of  a dim  blue,  lay  on  our  right,  and 
now  and  then  a tanned  sail  lagged  slowly  along,  before 
the  insufficient  breeze. 

Five  or  six  miles  from  Kirkwall,  we  reached  a vil- 
lage called  Finstone,  which  is  chiefly  remarkable  as 
having  three  churches  for  about  two  hundred  inhab- 
itants. In  the  gardens  there  were  elder-bushes  in 
blossom,  and  one  rather  stately  house  towered  up  out 
of  a belt  of  unusual  trees.  Here  we  turned  inland 
through  a shallow  valley,  where  a tract  of  woodland 
seemed  to  have  been  planted,  with  a thicket  as  the 
result.  There  was  a small  farm-house,  with  a huge 
quadrangular  barn  of  cut  stone  beside  it,  and  the 


A DAY  AT  THE  ORKNE  VS. 


173 


driver,  with  the  gravity  of  a man  who  speaks  the 
truth,  informed  us  that  the  cows  there  were  milked 
three  times  a day,  each  time  furnishing  eight  quarts 
of  milk  apiece, — or  six  gallons  a day  for  each  cow  ! 
“ I tell  the  tale  as  ’twas  told  to  me.” 

From  the  crest  of  the  valley  the  land  fell  westward 
to  the  blue  sheet  of  Loch  Of,  the  upper  end  of  which 
is  fresh  water,  and  the  lower,  invaded  by  the  tide, 
partly  salt.  We  already  saw  the  sepulchral  mound  of 
Maeshow,  and  beyond  the  loch  the  tall  Druid  stones 
of  Steenness.  It  was  a simple,  monotonous,  almost 
desolate  landscape  ; yet  the  fair  sunshine  and  deli- 
cious air  were  those  of  the  Egyptian  Delta, — so  enjoya- 
ble in  themselves  that  the  scenery  around  us  became 
a secondary  matter. 

The  sepulchre  is  an  exceedingly  curious  relic  of  the 
Past,  and  I would  give  you  its  origin,  purpose  and 
history  if  anybody  had  ever  been  fortunate  enough  to 
discover  them.  There  is,  first,  a ring-mound  about 
two  hundred  feet  in  diameter.  Inside  of  this  the 
signs  of  a deep,  wide  moat ; then  a mound  at  least 
one  hundred  feet  in  diameter  by  forty  in  height.  A 
doorway  on  the  western  side  admits  you  into  the  in- 
terior by  a passage  as  low  and  narrow  as  that  leading 
into  the  Great  Pyramid.  Exactly  in  the  center  of  the 
mound  there  is  a sepulchral  chamber  twenty  feet 
square,  with  three  smaller  chambers  on  three  sides  of 
it.  The  Norsemen,  who  certainly  broke  open  the 
mound,  and  possibly  appropriated  it  to  the  same  uses, 
have  scratched  a number  of  runic  inscriptions,  figures 
of  dragons  and  other  fabulous  animals,  on  the  face  of 


174  ICELAND. 

the  stones.  Inasmuch  as  there  is  considerable  differ- 
ence of  opinion  in  regard  to  the  meaning  of  these 
runes,  I will  spare  you  the  various  theories. 

We  returned  to  Kirkwall,  dined,  mailed  our  letters, 
and  sailed  for  the  Shetlands.  But  to-day,  after  hav- 
ing landed,  made  acquaintance  with  certain  of  the 
people,  travelled  fourteen  miles  over  the  misty,  Ossi- 
anic  hills  of  the  interior,  and  made  this  hasty  chroni- 
cle of  a part  of  yesterday’s  experience,  I must  sud- 
denly close.  The  steam  hums  and  quivers,  a man 
waits  to  take  our  mail  ashore,  and  in  five  minutes  we 
are  off  for  the  Faroe  Islands. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  SHETLAND  ISLANDS. 

Off  tkf.  Faroe  Islands,  July  25. 
UR  little  steam-yacht  rocks  and  swings  so  furi- 


ously that  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  write,  or  to 
read  what  one  has  written  ; but  I will  endeavor  to 
make  a brief  record  of  our  experiences  thus  far.  At 
Kirkwall,  in  Orkney,  we  took  on  board  a pilot  for  the 
Shetland  Isles,  and  returned  to  the  open  sea  by  the 
channel  through  which  we  had  entered.  The  north- 
ern Ork.neys  are  low  and  monotonous  in  outline,  and 
no  feature  belonging  to  them  clings  especially  to  the 
memory.  From  their  extremity  the  loftier  Shetlands 
may  be  seen,  in  clear  weather,  at  a distance  of  sixty  or 
seventy  miles.  Half-way  between  the  two  lies  Fair 
Isle,  upon  which  two  hundred  inhabitants  live  in  a 
miserable  way,  supporting  themselves  by  fishing  and 
knitting,  or  weaving  the  wool  of  their  sheep.  As  the 
island  has  no  harbor,  and  landing  is  only  practicable 
in  good  weather,  the  people  are  sometimes  half  fam- 
ished before  supplies  can  reach  them.  It  is  now  pro- 
posed to  remove  them  in  a body  to  New  Brunswick, 
and  leave  the  island  without  inhabitants. 

At  midnight  we  saw  the  light  on  Sumburgh  Head, 
the  southern  point  of  the  mainland  of  Shetland,  but  a 


ICELAND. 


176 

dense  fog  soon  rolled  down  upon  the  water,  and  com- 
pelled us  to  creep  onward  at  a snail’s  pace.  The  her- 
ring fishery  is  now  in  season,  and  the  sea  was  crowded 
with  small  craft,  both  from  the  islands  and  from  Scot- 
land. Morning  found  us  shut  in  by  a dull,  low  sky, 
with  no  land  in  sight;  but,  after  feeling  about  for  three 
hours,  the  island  of  Mousa  detached  itself  from  the 
mist,  and  soon  afterward  we  saw  the  Noss  of  Bressay. 
The  strait  between  this  latter  island  and  the  larger 
Mainland,  leads  to  Lerwick,  the  capital  of  the  Shet- 
lands. 

Here,  at  last,  were  bold,  lofty  shores — walls  of  ba- 
salt, hollowed  into  caverns  by  the  waves,  the  head- 
lands split  into  pillars  or  rising  in  fantastic  arches  out 
of  the  foam  of  breakers.  Flocks  of  sea-birds  wheeled 
about  them,  piping  their  plaintive  cries,  and  the 
rounded  green  summits  were  speckled  with  sheep. 
The  dark,  lowering  sky  was  in  unison  with  these  wild 
shores;  the  air  was  so  penetrated  with  a fine,  invisible 
moisture,  that  our  water-proof  mantles  slowly  dripped 
as  we  sat  on  deck. 

Mainland  is  at  least  sixty  miles  in  length,  and  the 
town  of  Lerwick  is  situated  near  its  centre,  on  the 
eastern  side,  Bressay  forming  a complete  breakwater 
for  the  harbor.  The  houses  of  gray  stone  climb  the 
steep  banks  in  a confused  but  most  picturesque  man- 
ner, with  a background  of  dark,  bleak  and  scarred 
mountains.  The  anchor  had  no  sooner  dropped  than 
a crowd  of  curious  natives  collected  at  the  little  land- 
ing-place. Our  boats  carried  the  English  and  Ameri- 
can flags,  which  were  evidently  a signal  of  profit  to 


THE  SHETLAND  ISLANDS. 


177 


the  people,  for  a quantity  of  advertising  cards  were 
thrown  to  us  before  we  landed,  and  more  were  waiting 
on  the  pier.  Truly  enough,  Shetland  lace  and  hosiery 
proved  to  have  attraction  for  the  most  of  our  party, 
and  several  pounds  were  spent  before  any  steps  were 
taken  for  visiting  the  interior. 

It  was  not  easy  to  find  a conveyance.  The  people 
were  very  willing  to  assist  us,  but  there  seemed  to  be 
a scarcity  of  horses  and  vehicles.  Finally  we  discov- 
ered a “ wagonette  ” and  pair,  and  Mr.  Hay,  the  Dan- 
ish Consul  offered  his  dog-cart.  The  only  trip  possi- 
ble with  the  time  at  our  disposal  was  across  the  island 
to  the  port  of  Scalloway,  on  the  western  side.  As  we 
drove  out  of  Lerwick  I looked  in  vain  for  trees  in  the 
gardens ; the  only  luxuriant  growth  was  cabbage.  We 
passed  a small  old  fort,  skirted  the  sea  for  a short  dis- 
tance, and  then  turned  inland  into  a broad  valley  be- 
tween bare  and  gloomy  hills.  Far  and  near  the  soil 
was  gashed  by  cuttings  for  turf,  which  is  here  found 
in  layers  from  three  to  six  feet  in  thickness.  Women, 
young  and  old,  many  of  them  barefooted,  were  carry- 
ing basket-loads  of  turf  on  their  back,  each  load  being 
worth,  as  the  driver  informed  me,  about  three  pence. 
“ The  women  do  nearly  all  the  work  on  the  Islands,” 
he  said.  “ The  men  fish  or  make  voyages  to  foreign 
ports  during  the  Summer,  and  spend  the  Winter  idly 
at  home.” 

We  saw  a few  genuine  “ Shelties  ” grazing  on  the 
hills,  little  rough-coated  creatures,  with  good,  intelli- 
gent faces.  The  stallions  are  now  worth  £10  apiece, 
owing  to  an  increase  in  the  demand  for  them  ; but  a 


i78 


ICELAND. 


good  mare  may  still  be  had  for  £6.  The  sheep,  feed- 
ing far  and  near  on  the  short,  nutritious  grass,  are 
wonderfully  clean  and  beautiful  creatures,  black- 
headed and  white-bodied,  with  fleeces  that  show  a 
gloss  like  that  of  silk. 

It  was  a strange,  lonely  landscape  through  which 
we  passed.  Misty  clouds  hung  upon  the  broad  crests 
of  the  hills,  sometimes  sinking  and  wrapping  us  in 
moisture,  then  rising  and  leaving  the  country  fresh 
and  clear.  The  region  of  turf  extended  for  several 
miles,  to  the  dividing  ridge  of  the  island.  Beyond 
this,  there  was  a fine  view  westward  over  small  isles, 
away  to  the  promontory  of  Fitful  Head,  which  every 
reader  of  Scott’s  “Pirate”  will  remember.  Scallo- 
way, with  the  stately  ruins  of  a castle,  lay  below  us, 
and  there  were  fields  of  wheat,  barley,  and  potatoes  in 
the  valley  behind  it.  This  was  the  old  Shetland  cap- 
ital: it  does  not  now  contain  more  than  eight  hundred 
inhabitants,  while  Lerwick  boasts  of  more  than  four 
thousand. 

On  our  way  to  the  castle,  several  neat,  pleasant 
women  came  out  of  the  cottages  and  offered  falls 
(veils)  of  -the  finest  white  woollen  lace  for  sale.  The 
knitting  of  veils,  shawls,  scarfs,  and  hosiery  of  all 
hinds  is  the  chief  industry  of  the  Shetlands.  I am 
told  that  the  women  have  no  prepared  patterns,  but 
keep  the  delicate,  elaborate  designs  in  memory,  and 
work  them  with  perfect  accuracy.  A girl  and  four 
boys  accompanied  us  to  the  castle,  the  former  as 
guide,  the  latter  out  of  curiosity.  “ This  is  the  castle 
built  by  Earl  Patrick  Stewart,  in  1600,”  said  the  girl. 


THE  SHETLAND  ISLANDS. 


179 


“It’s  him  that  treated  the  people  so  cruelly,  and  it’s 
here  that  he  was  took.  Go  up  stairs  and  you’ll  see 
the  room  where  he  was  discovered  by  the  smuk  o’  his 
pipe.  He  was  beheaded  at  Edinboro’  in  the  year 
1615.” 

“ Served  him  right,”  remarked  one  of  our  party. 

“ Indeed,  it  wasn’t  enough  punishment,”  the  girl 
answered  with  energy. 

The  castle-walls,  some  seventy'  feet  high,  make  a 
very  picturesque  ruin.  The  boys  climbed  every- 
where with  us,  and  the  youngest,  a fine,  bright-faced 
fellow  of  ten — “a  poor,  unfortunate  orphan,”  as  the 
girl  said, — ran  to  his  grandmother  with  a few  pennies 
we  gave  him,  and  then  returned  to  attend  us.  They 
all  spoke  a much  better  English  than  the  common 
people  of  Scotland.  The  pure  Norse  blood  of  the 
Shetlanders  is  apparent  at  the  first  glance  ; some 
phrases  of  their  former  tongue  are  still  in  general 
use,  but  in  face,  form,  and  manner,  they  are  wholly 
Norsemen.  In  Lerwick  you  often  see  hair  of  such  a 
wonderful  ruddy-golden  hue  that  it  verily  shines  by 
its  own  light.  The  people  are  frank  and  cordial,  with 
just  enough  shyness  to  give  them  an  air  of  dignity  ; 
we  found  them,  without  exception,  friendly  and  cor- 
dial. Few  of  them  are  positively  handsome,  but  all 
have  a rich  glow  of  health  and  animal  vigor  on  their 
faces. 

We  drove  back  through  another  valley,  passing  two 
fresh-water  lochs,  which  abound  in  trout.  In  this  val- 
ley there  was  apparently  no  turf  ; grain  and  potato 
fields  occupied  its  bed,  and  the  high  slopes  on  either 


i So 


ICELAND. 


side  were  crowded  with  sheep.  From  two  crests  which 
we  climbed  there  were  wide  and  sublimely  dreary 
views  over  hill  and  firth,  Bressay,  the  skerries,  and  the 
distant  sea.  One  may  travel  the  northward  road  for 
forty  miles,  said  the  driver,  but  there  are  neither  vil- 
lages nor  taverns  on  that  part  of  the  island. 

At  Lerwick  we  engaged  a pilot,  for  thirty  shillings, 
to  take  us  through  the  difficult  channel  between  the 
northern  part  of  Mainland  and  the  island  of  Yell. 
The  queer,  labyrinthine  yet  most  substantial  little 
town  interested  us  greatly,  and  we  might  easily  have 
spent  several  days  in  learning  its  many  original  fea- 
tures; but  the  necessity  of  getting  to  Iceland  in  time 
for  the  Millennial  Jubilee  admitted  no  further  delay. 
Three  genial  Shetland  gentlemen  joined  us  at  dinner 
in  the  cabin,  our  mail  was  dispatched,  and  we  started 
at  five  o’clock,  under  the  gray  arch  of  cloud  which 
had  spanned  our  arrival. 

The  strait  was  a repetition  of  the  same  scenery. 
Lofty,  dark,  guano-streaked  cliffs  and  headlands, 
haunted  by  thousands  of  sea-birds,  brown  and  purple 
hills  behind  them,  fresh  green  of  grain- fields  in  the 
valleys,  with  here  and  there  a lonely  farm-house,  or  a 
cluster  of  five  or  six  as  an  attempt  at  a village,  alter- 
nated on  either  side.  After  two  hours  or  more,  the 
pilot  indicated  a group  of  houses  as  the  point  where 
he  wished  to  be  set  ashore,  as  the  open  sea  was  visi- 
ble ahead,  and  there  were  no  further,  reefs  in  the 
channel.  A fishing-boat  came  out  for  him  ; and  some 
of  us,  noticing  a dozen  golden-tinted  rock  cod  in  the 
bottom,  proposed  to  buy  them.  “ No  money,”  said 


THE  SHETLAND  ISLANDS.  181 

the  fisherman,  “but  you  may  have  them  for  brandy.” 
The  captain  consenting,  the  exchange  was  made,  and 
we  steamed  away  from  the  bare,  dark,  picturesque 
and  fascinating  Shetland  shores,  into  the  gray,  rainy, 
and  restless  Northern  Ocean. 


CHAPTER  V. 


A HOLIDAY  AT  THE  FAROE  ISLANDS. 

Thorshavn,  Faroe  Islands,  July  26. 
\/ESTERDAY  I could  only  think  of  Longfellow’s 
-*•  stanza : 

From  the  tumbling  surf,  that  buries 
The  Orkneyan  skerries, 

Answering  the  hoarse  Hebrides  ; 

From  the  wrecks  of  ships,  and  drifting 
Spars,  uplifting 
On  the  desolate , rainy  seas. 

There  was  no  night,  but  a dull,  Northern  twilight, 
W'hich  increased  rather  than  brightened  into  a sombre, 
moist,  chilly  day.  An  uneasy  sea  made  our  little 
steamer  rock  and  roll,  and  there  was  no  sail  to  be  seen 
anywhere.  So  passed  the  hours  until  four  in  the  after- 
noon, when,  far  ahead,  a high  mountain-isle,  w'ith 
sheer  sides,  showed  its  head  above  the  mists  which 
still  concealed  its  base.  Presently,  on  our  left,  the 
long  mass  of  Suderoe,  the  southernmost  island  of  the 
group,  became  visible,  and  it  urns  evident  that  the  lofty 
peak  in  front  was  the  Little  Diamond.  Beyond  it  lies 
the  Great  Diamond,  a rock  nearly  a mile  in  diameter, 
and  with  a sea-wall  of  cliff  certainly  not  less  than  five 
hundred  feet  in  height. 


A HOLIDA  Y AT  THE  FAROE  ISLANDS.  183 


Passing  showers  hid  those  grand  shores  and  drove 
us  from  deck  for  an  hour  or  two,  but  the  sky  cleared 
a little  toward  evening,  enabling  us  to  see  the  outlines 
of  Stromoe,  the  main  island,  on  which  lies  Thors- 
havn,  the  capital,  and  Naalsoe,  which  protects  its 
harbor  on  the  east.  Here  all  things  are  on  a grand 
and  impressive  scale.  The  mountains  rise  to  the 
height  of  two  thousand  six  hundred  feet,  and  the  fiords 
by  which  the  islands  are  indented  resemble  those  of 
Norway  in  their  bold  and  savage  character.  In  fact 
the  Faroes  seem  to  have  drifted  away  from  Northern 
Norway,  and  been  anchored  here  in  a milder  and 
moister  climate. 

On  approaching  Thorshavn,  two  Danish  men-of- 
war  showed  themselves  through  the  mist.  The  royal 
standard  floating  at  the  stern  showed  that  we  had 
overtaken  His  Majesty  Christian  IX.,  on  his  way  to 
Iceland.  It  was  nearly  nine  o’clock,  and  cloud  and 
twilight  combined  dimmed  the  picture  of  the  town; 
yet  its  roofs  of  grassy  turf  were  so  bespangled  with  the 
white  cross  of  Denmark  on  its  red  field,  that  the  effect 
was  something  like  that  of  an  illumination. 

Our  boats  were  lowered  as  soon  as  the  anchor  held, 
and  we  made  for  the  shore.  The  town  covers  a nar- 
row tongue  of  land  between  two  small  bays.  Huge 
masses  of  rock  line  the  shore  and  prop  the  most  of  the 
houses,  which  are  crowded  together  as  if  trying  to 
keep  warm.  There  are  one  or  two  small  and  rude 
landing-places,  and  at  one  of  them  a group  of  friendly 
Faroese  assisted  us  to  get  ashore.  Blond  and  ruddy, 
with  Phrygian  caps  on  their  heads,  knee-breeches 


ICELAND. 


184 

with  rows  of  silver  buttons  at  the  knees,  brown  stock- 
ings over  powerful  calves,  and  heavy  wooden  pattens 
on  their  feet,  saying  “ God  afton ! ” (Good  evening) 
with  a tone  which  made  it  sound  like  “welcome  ! ” 
— they  were  all  Norsemen,  and  capital  specimens  of 
the  race.  The  town,  which  has  about  a thousand  in- 
habitants, was  crowded  with  people,  many  having 
come  from  other  parts  of  the  islands,  for  the  king,  we 
learned,  had  been  expected  the  day  before,  but  had 
only  landed  at  two  o’clock  that  afternoon.  The  men 
looked  at  us  with  some  curiosity,  possibly  supposing 
us  to  be  a delayed  part  of  the  royal  suite.  There  was 
nothing  intrusive  in  their  ways;  all  greeted  us,  lifting 
their  caps,  but  not  even  the  boys  followed  our  steps. 

There  are  no  streets,  properly  speaking,  but  a mul- 
titude of  irregular  lines,  winding  and  climbing  among 
the  houses,  some  roughly  paved,  some  leading  over 
the  natural  rock.  The  buildings  are  all  of  wood, 
tarred  for  better  preservation,  with  roofs  of  birch  bark, 
upon  which  is  a sod  a foot  thick,  always  kept  green 
and  luxuriant  by  this  moist,  temperate  air.  The 
poorer  dwellings,  into  which  I glanced  as  we  passed, 
are  often  but  a single  room,  in  which  the  whole  family 
cooks,  eats,  and  sleeps. 

Wandering  at  random,  we  descended  into  a shallow 
ravine,  down  which  a small  brook,  born  among  the 
inland  fells,  trickles  over  the  rocks.  “ It  is  nearly 
dried  up,”  said  a Faroese  in  answer  to  my  question; 
“we  have  had  two  months  of  warm,  dry  weather  this 
summer.”  The  road  leading  to  the  Governor’s  house, 
on  a knoll  above,  had  been  freshly  strewn  with  flow- 


A HO  LI  DA  Y AT  THE  FAROE  ISLANDS.  185 


ers,  following  the  trace  of  which  downward  we  came 
to  a triumphal  arch  of  mosses  and  ferns,  with  the 
word  “ Velkommen !”  on  the  side  toward  the  sea. 
Here  the  King  had  landed  and  been  officially  received. 
First  the  Governor,  Herr  Finsen,  made  a loyal 
and  dutiful  address  ; then  Herr  Raaslov,  the  Burgo- 
master of  Thorshavn,  followed,  but  at  the  conclusion 
of  his  speech  he  fell  suddenly  to  the  earth — and  died  ! 
The  event  was  tragic  rather  than  ominous,  for  the  un- 
fortunate Burgomaster  had  been  both  unwell  and  ex- 
cited for  some  days  previous. 

We  visited  the  Postmaster  and  aranged  for  the  for- 
warding of  our  letters,  then  returned  on  board  to 
sleep.  The  King  and  Prince  Waldemar  were  the 
Governor’s  guests,  and  every  tolerable  house  in  the 
place  was  occupied  with  civil  and  naval  officers.  At 
ten  o’clock  it  was  still  daylight. 

This  morning  Thorshavn  looked  its  best  and  bright- 
est. Every  farmer  and  fisherman  wore  his  Sunday 
dress,  looked  fresh  and  clean,  and  had  a gloss  on  his 
curling  yellow  locks.  The  houses  were  decorated  with 
strings  of  fish,  hung  up  to  dry,  which  imparted  their 
odors  to  the  air.  Passing  the  Governor’s  house  I 
noticed  a large  gray  cat  waiting  her  chance  to  see  the 
King,  as  if  taking  advantage  of  the  old  proverb.  His 
Majesty  was  at  breakfast,  and  everything  was  quiet 
about  the  house.  We  went  to  the  top  of  a hill  behind 
the  fort,  whence  there  was  a good  view  of  the  country. 
Thegayflags  waving  from  every  verdant  roof,  the  dec- 
orated vessels  in  the  harbor,  and  the  gleam  of  flow- 
ers from  small  but  lovingly-tended  gardens,  made  so 


i86 


ICELAND. 


much  brightness  that  we  no  longer  missed  the  sun. 
Fields  of  grass,  oats  and  potatoes,  inclosed  by  stone 
walls,  stretched  for  a mile  or  two  back  of  the  town ; 
then  rose  a semicirlce  of  dark  gray  mountains,  their 
crests  playing  hide  and  seek  with  the  rolling  mists. 

We  visited  the  Post-Office,  the  School,  and  various 
other  places ; but  there  were  Danish  guests  at  all,  and 
everybody  was  at  breakfast.  At  eleven  we  went  to 
church,  a neat  white  building,  large  enough  to  ac- 
commodate five  hundred  persons.  The  clergyman, 
Herr  Hammersheim,  who  has  done  excellent  service 
in  collecting  and  preserving  the  folk-lore  of  the 
Faroe  Islands,  kindly  ordered  the  sacristan  to  give  us 
a pew.  The  people  flocked  in  until  all  the  seats  were 
taken — sturdy,  sun-burnt  frames,  women  apparently 
as  hardy  as  men.  The  latter  were  picturesque  in 
their  knee-breeches,  the  former  almost  ugly  in  a head- 
dress of  black  silk,  tied  so  as  to  bulge  out  at  the 
sides  and  to  show  long,  pointed  ends.  As  the  crowd 
grew  dense  about  us  a very  perceptible  odor  of  dried 
fish  and  old  leather  filled  the  air. 

The  bells  chimed,  not  very  musically  ; the  front 
door  of  the  church — the  portal  of  state  —was  unbolted, 
and  finally  Gov  Finsen,  in  full  uniform,  holding  a 
white-plumed  chapeau  on  his  arm,  entered,  preceding 
the  King.  Christian  IX.  and  Prince  Waldemar  fol- 
lowed, the  latter  in  a plain  morning  suit  of  gray.  The 
King  must  be  near  sixty  years  of  age,  but  looks  con- 
siderably younger.  He  has  a good  nose  and  chin, 
wears  a heavy  mustache,  and  would  be  quite  hand- 
some but  for  a lack  of  expression  in  the  eyes.  He 


A HOLIDA  Y AT  THE  FAROE  ISLANDS.  1S7 


walked  quickly  up  the  aisle,  nodding  to  the  right  and 
left,  and  took  his  place  near  the  altar,  whereon  (as  is 
customary  in  the  Lutheran  Church  of  Denmark  and 
Sweden)  large  wax  candles  were  burning.  Prince 
Waldemar  is  a ruddy,  gray-eyed,  stout  young  man  of 
twenty-one.  The  Minister  of  Justice,  Klein,  a cham- 
berlain or  two,  naval  officers,  Carl  Andersen  the  poet, 
and  others,  about  twenty  in  all,  followed  the  royal 
personages,  took  their  seats,  and  the  service  began. 

The  hymns  were  sung  by  the  congregation  to  the 
accompaniment  of  a feeble  organ.  Neither  in  time 
nor  in  tune  were  they  successful ; I detected  a few  good, 
untrained  voices,  but  the  most  had  no  idea  whatever 
of  choral  singing.  Then  the  clergyman  intoned  a 
prayer,  and  read  the  chapter  for  the  day,  the  congre- 
gation rising  to  their  feet  as  he  began.  The  sermon 
was  short  and  of  a safe  character  ; it  included  none 
but  the  stock  theological  phrases,  and  probably  did 
not  provoke  a thought  in  the  mind  of  any  person 
present.  I was  very  grateful,  however,  for  its  brevity, 
for  the  close  heat  and  increasing  pungency  of  the  fish 
and  leather  odor  were  fast  making  the  church  insup- 
portable. Two  long  hymns  and  another  chanted  les- 
son closed  the  services.  The  clergyman  wore  a black 
surplice,  and  a broad  Elizabethan  ruff  around  his 
neck. 

The  people,  I noticed,  all  saluted  the  King  very 
respectfully,  but  with  a simple,  quiet  dignity  of  their 
own.  There  was  no  running  after  him,  no  pressing  to 
get  near,  no  cheering,  or  any  other  token  of  special 
enthusiasm.  Personally,!  believe  he  is  liked;  but  he 


iS8 


ICELAND. 


represents  a dynasty  almost  new,  and  possesses  no  tra- 
ditions of  loyalty.  The  Faroese  have  always  been 
more  liberally  treated  by  Denmark  than  the  Iceland- 
ers, and  they  have  no  important  favors  to  ask  at  this 
season.  This  is,  it  is  true,  the  first  time  a King  of 
Denmark  has  visited  the  islands ; but  it  hardly  has  a 
further  significance. 

Since  church  many  boats  have  come  off  with  Faro- 
ese visitors  to  the  two  steam  frigates,  the  Jylland  and 
the  Heimdal.  There  is  a rough  sea  outside,  and  hard 
rowing  in  the  harbor,  but  the  people  laugh  as  they 
pass,  and  make  the  most  of  their  holiday.  A little 
while  ago  the  King  and  Prince  came  off  to  dinner, 
drawn  by  a diminutive  steam-launch  which  belongs  to 
the  frigate.  We  had  the  Danish  standard  run  up  to 
the  main,  dipped  the  English  and  American  flags,  and 
saluted  the  party  from  the  quarter-deck  as  it  passed 
under  our  stern.  They  leave  for  Iceland  to-morrow 
afternoon,  and  we  shall  have  about  twelve  hours’  start 
of  them. 

We  have  attempted  no  excursion  into  the  interior, 
for  there  are  no  roads  and  almost  no  horses.  It  would 
probably  be  impossible  to  mount  all  of  us  at  once. 
Stromoe  has  a length  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  but 
very  little  of  the  soil  can  be  cultivated,  and  the  popu- 
lation is  mostly  centred  in  the  little  coves  where  fish- 
ing-boats can  find  shelter. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


ON  THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN. 


Steamer  Albion,  July  28. 


E waited  at  Thorshavn  until  three  o’clock  yes- 


terday morning,  for  the  night  was  thick  and 
overcast,  and  some  daylight  was  necessary  for  the 
navigation  of  the  narrow  channel  between  Stromoe 
and  Osteroe.  There  were  many  visitors  to  the  royal 
frigate  Jylland  during  the  afternoon,  including  a num- 
ber of  Faroese  ladies,  and,  to  judge  from  the  tunes 
played  by  the  band,  there  must  have  been  much  and 
lively  dancing  on  deck.  A dozen  boat-loads  of  exceed- 
ingly merry  human  freight  were  carried  to  shore,  and 
then  the  King  followed,  to  pass  another  night  at  the 
Governor’s  house. 

Some  of  our  party  returned,  to  take  a parting  look 
at  the  curious  little  town.  The  people  still  enjoyed 
their  Sunday  and  national  holiday  in  a very  quiet, 
decorous  way.  About  two  hundred  of  them,  in  their 
jackets  of  homespun  wadmal,  black  breeches,  and 
heavy  wooden  pattens  protecting  their  seal-skin 
shoes,  were  drawn  up  in  a line  around  the  head  of  the 
northern  cove  to  await  the  King’s  landing.  Tame 
pigeons  and  chickens  sauntered  up  and  down  the 
rough  alleys,  and  the  buttercups  and  marigolds  scat- 


ICELAND 


i go 

tered  for  the  welcome  were  still  tolerably  fresh,  in  the 
moist,  misty  air.  The  Faroese  are  a very  simple- 
hearted,  honest,  and  kindly  people,  and  by  no  means 
deficient  in  intelligence.  Their  lives  are  rude  and 
hard,  for  high  waves  and  furious  currents  in  the  fiords, 
and  windy  hurricanes  on  the  hills,  limit  even  their 
possible  labor,  and  the  best  fortune  barely  gives  them 
enough  barley,  fish,  and  milk  to  live  upon. 

Tl: orshavn  lies  in  latitude  62°  north,  yet  the  Winter 
temperature  never  falls  below  14°,  rarely  below  20°, 
and  the  sheep  continue  to  pasture  in  the  valleys. 
There  were  formerly  forests  of  birch  trees  in  sheltered 
parts,  but  they  have  long  since  been  exterminated, 
and  peat  is  used  for  fuel.  A vein  of  coal  has  been 
discovered  on  one  of  the  islands.  Barley  grows  tol- 
erably well,  up  to  a height  of  about  three  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea:  beyond  that  line  it  will  not  ripen. 
The  summits  of  the  mountains,  which  are  broad,  flat 
table-lands  from  one  to  three  thousand  feet  high,  are 
swept  by  such  furious  gusts  of  wind  that  no  vegetation 
can  exist  there.  The  earth  and  hardy  herbage  are 
torn  from  the  rock,  rolled  up  like  a sheet  of  paper, 
and  hurled  far  into  the  valleys. 

For  the  sum  of  three  English  shillings  the  obliging 
postmaster  sent  off  a boat,  at  two  in  the  morning, 
for  our  last  letters,  and  then  we  got  up  steam  for  de- 
parture. The  two  frigates  were  to  sail  in  the  after- 
noon, and  it  was  necessary  that  we  should  get  the  start 
of  them,  in  order  to  secure  the  simplest  accommoda- 
tions in  Iceland.  The  weather,  although  dull,  was  fa- 
vorable ; the  sea  had  gone  down,  the  mists  had  risen  and 


ON  THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN. 


igr 


rested  upon  the  dark  island-summits,  and  the  bleak, 
sublime  shores  on  either  hand  distinctly  marked  our 
way.  On  the  east  they  rose  in  sheer  precipices,  over 
great  caverns  hollowed  by  the  waves,  wherein  the  auk, 
the  puffin,  the  kittiwake,  and  other  Northern  seafowl 
were  now  asleep  on  their  rocky  perches.  By  day  they 
sometimes  rise  in  such  clouds  as  to  darken  the  sun, 
and  with  cries  that  stun  the  ear ; but  we  heard  and 
saw  nothing  of  them. 

After  sunrise  the  clouds  scattered,  the  sun  came  out 
in  a blue  sky,  and  the  tremendous  headlands  of 
Stromoe  and  Osteroe  became  flushed  with  airy  pink 
and  purple.  We  saw  them  for  hours  ; the  fishing- 
boats  that  cruised  off  the  shores  dipped  sooner  under 
the  horizon,  and  left  our  vessel  alone  on  this  lonely 
ocean.  The  wind  blew  from  the  north-east,  raw  and 
piercing;  gray  films  of  cloud  crept  over  the  sky,  and 
the  deck  was  deserted  by  the  most  of  our  party.  We 
were  fortunate,  however,  in  having  a smooth  sea,  w'ith 
a good  prospect  of  keeping  it  for  the  rest  of  the 
voyage.  The  steamer  makes  nine  or  ten  knots,  which 
allows  us  to  calculate  on  a run  of  less  than  thirty-six 
hours  from  Thorshavn  to  IngolPs  Head,  the  nearest 
point  of  Iceland.  Towards  evening  the  wind  fell, 
veering  to  the  south,  and  the  air  became  milder.  The 
temperature  of  the  water  has  been  steadily  52°,  since 
leaving  the  Shetland  Isles.  We  have  at  last  left  the 
night  behind  us,  and  a twilight  which  is  almost  day 
makes  the  midnight  cheerful.  Last  evening  the  sailors 
danced  Scotch  reels  on  the  fonvard  deck,  with  such 
vigor  that  we  were  half  tempted  to  join  them.  En- 


ICELAND. 


192 

couraged  by  Captain  Howling,  they  then  came  aft  and 
sang  us  some  capital  Scotch  and  Irish  ballads.  We  are 
only  twenty-seven  persons  on  board — passengers,  offi- 
cers, crew,  firemen  and  stewards,— and  the  captain 
exercises  his  government  so  quietly  that  there  seems 
to  be  perfect  discipline  without  command. 

This  morning  at  eight  o’clock  we  were  about  sixty 
miles  from  Portland  Cape,  the  southern  point  of  Iceland, 
near  the  famous  Skaptar  Jokull,  which  would  doubt- 
less be  visible  at  this  moment  were  the  sky  not  so  hazy 
and  dark.  We  have  left  Ingolf’s  Head  to  the  east- 
ward, and  give  rather  a wide  berth  to  the  shore  on  ac- 
count of  a dangerous  reef.  It  is  a curious  experience 
for  a landsman  to  coast  along  a land  so  strange,  re- 
mote, and  interesting  as  Iceland,  while  it  is  still 
invisible,  and  to  measure  his  position  by  landmarks 
which  he  cannot  see. 


July  29,  3 p.  m. 

Our  hopes  of  getting  quietly  into  an  Icelandic 
port  before  this  time,  have  been  miserably  disap- 
pointed. Yesterday  afternoon  the  south  wind  in- 
creased, the  clouds  thickened,  rain  and  scud  began 
to  sweep  the  decks,  and  the  rapid  fall  of  the  barom- 
eter denoted  a gale.  Our  prudent  captain  turned  the 
steamer’s  head  another  point  away  from  the  shore, 
which  now  could  not  be  sighted  without  running 
dangerously  near  it.  About  nine  o’clock,  however, 
four  or  five  distant  dark  specks  rose  against  the  sunset, 
over  the  raging  waves.  They  were  the  Westmanna 
Islands,  a small  rocky  group,  lying  some  fifteen  or 


ON  THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN. 


193 


twenty  miles  off  the  south-western  coast  of  Iceland. 
The  tradition  says  that  Hvorleif,  one  of  Ingolf’s  com- 
panions, took  with  him  some  Irish  slaves — “ men  of 
the  West  as  the  Irish  were  called  by  the  old  Norse- 
men. These  men,  employed  as  herdsmen,  killed  and 
ate  Hvorleif’s  ox,  and  then  said  a bear  had  devoured 
it.  Growing  bolder,  they  next  killed  Hvorleif  himself, 
took  a boat  and  coasted  along  until  they  saw  these 
islands,  where  they  made  an  independent  settle- 
ment. 

The  gale  increased  in  violence  until  our  vessel 
strained  and  labored  in  the  heavy  sea.  It  was  hardly 
possible  to  keep  the  deck,  and  we  went  below,  but  not 
to  sleep.  The  slowing  of  the  engines,  toward  mid- 
night, called  me  up  again,  and  I found  that  we  had 
entered  a channel  between  Heimaey,  the  main  island 
of  the  group,  and  two  small,  barren  islets  on  the 
north.  Beyond  the  latter,  dim  under  a belt  of  cloud, 
yet  quite  visible  in  the  northern  twilight,  stretched 
the  base  of  the  Eyafjcll  JOkull,  one  of  the  most  de- 
vastating of  the  Icelandic  volcanoes.  Heimaey,  on 
our  left,  appeared  to  be  about  a mile  and  a half  in 
length,  rising  at  each  end  into  peaks  a thousand  feet 
high,  with  a dip  of  lowland  between.  Somewhere 
opposite  to  us  lay  the  harbor  of  Kaupstadr  ("  trading- 
port  ”),  and  it  seemed  the  better  course  to  enter  and 
seek  a temporary  refuge  from  the  gale.  But  all  was 
dark  and  silent  on  shore  ; we  sent  up  rockets  and 
blew  the  steam-whistle,  but  after  waiting  until  nearly 
one  o’clock  in  the  morning,  Capt.  Howling  deter- 
mined to  push  onward  rather  than  risk  the  chance  of 


!94 


ICELAND. 


being  obliged  to  lie  under  the  lee  of  the  island  for  a 
day  or  two  longer.  Dark,  precipitous  masses,  girded 
about  by  the  constant  foam  and  thunder  of  the  waves, 
the  islands  seem  to  repel  us  more  than  the  vexed 
sea  beyond.  We  had  still  seventy  miles  to  the  head- 
land of  Rejkianaes,  with  the  torn  and  rocky  coast  of 
Iceland  on  our  lee ; but,  fortunately,  there  was  less 
rain  and  no  fog  during  the  night  hours. 

The  steamer  bored  her  head  into  the  ridgy  waves, 
and  quivered  as  the  heavy-hammer  blows  struck  her. 
Wedged  in  our  narrow  berths,  we  watched  the  wild 
gymnastics  of  everything  that  could  toss ; or  saw, 
through  the  buried  ports,  the  early  daylight  strike 
through  the  green  water.  The  tightness  and  buoy- 
ancy of  the  little  vessel  gave  us  faith  in  her  seaworthi- 
ness, and  as  hour  after  hour  passed  by  and  we  steadily 
made  our  seven  knots,  keeping  well  off  the  iron  coast, 
which  was  dimly  visible  through  driving  scud,  we 
congratulated  the  captain  on  his  choice  of  the  two 
evils.  The  barometer  was  still  sinking,  the  gale  still 
increased ; but  by  eleven  o’clock  we  were  off  the 
sharp  corner  of  Rejkianaes  (“  Smoky  Nose  ”),  the  ex- 
treme south-western  corner  of  Iceland,  and  the  broad 
Faxa  Fiord  opened  to  the  north.  We  had  still  sev- 
enteen miles  to  the  other  corner  of  the  long  peninsula, 
beyond  which  our  course  would  be  eastward  toward 
Rejkiavik,  and  under  the  lee  of  the  land.  The  sea 
was  already  much  less  violent,  the  sun  shone  out 
athwart  the  drifting  clouds,  and  both  waves  and  shore 
were  covered  with  flocks  of  Arctic  birds,  nearly  all 
varieties  of  which  I saw  for  the  first  time.  The  hand- 


ON  THE  NORTHERN  OCEAN. 


195 


some  solan  goose  slept  upon  the  billows,  with  its  head 
under  its  wing,  and,  when  awakened  by  the  steamer’s 
approach — sometimes,  in  fact  almost  touched  by  its 
side — flapped  off  over  the  water,  screaming  in  terror, 
Litttle  terns  and  puffins  darted  hither  and  thither  ; 
gray  eider-duck  flew  to  and  from  their  nests  on  the 
rocks,  ancl  the  snowy  sea-gulls  circled  in  all  directions. 
There  was  a wonderful  profusion  and  animation  of 
bird-life,  and  the  dark  cliffs  and  foam-girdled  skerries 
seemed  less  bleak  and  forbidding,  after  seeing  how 
these  creatures  loved  them. 


In  Harbor,  5 p.  m. 

After  rounding  the  point  of  Utskalar,  we  lost  more 
than  half  the  force  of  the  sea.  Outside,  the  gale  raged 
as  furiously  as  ever;  but  as  we  advanced  further  into 
the  fiord,  the  spray- walls  of  the  breakers  sank  lower, 
lines  of  shore  glimmered  green  in  the  sun,  and  the 
outlines  of  huge  mountains  detached  themselves  from 
the  mist  to  the  northward.  Here  and  there  a low, 
stout-looking  house  was  to  be  seen  ; then  the  village 
and  church  of  Bressastadr,  on  the  right,  and  finally  the 
nas  (nose)  or  headland  of  Rejkiavik  harbor,  directly 
ahead.  A beacon,  on  the  point,  served  to  pilot  us. 
Over  the  low  shore  the  masts  of  four  or  five  men-of- 
war  at  anchor  showed  the  position  of  the  harbor,  and 
some  of  the  houses  of  the  little  Icelandic  capital  began 
to  loom  up  behind  them.  The  inland  mountains, 
coming  out  more  clearly,  suggested  a colder  and  more 
barren  Scotland  ; all  the  features  of  the  scenery  were 
large,  broad,  and  sublime  in  their  very  simplicity. 


ICELAND. 


196 

Passing  between  two  islands  we  came  into  port. 
One  German,  two  French,  one  Swedish,  one  Norwe- 
gian and  one  Danish  frigate  lay  at  anchor,  with 
twenty  smaller  sailing  craft  nearer  shore.  The  town 
stretched  along  two  low  hills  and  the  hollow  between 
them,  and  surprised  us  by'  its  bright,  substantial  ap-  . 
pearance.  We  were  presently  hailed  by  a boat  which 
brought  to  us  a ruddy  gentleman,  who  came  on  board, 
introduced  himself  as  a member  of  the  Committee  of 
Arrangement,  and  proposed  to  assign  us  a proper  an- 
chorage. But  no  sooner  had  our  anchor  fallen  than 
we  were  boarded  by  an  officer  from  the  Danish  frig- 
ate, who  stated  that  we  would  be  in  the  King’s  way  on 
His  Majesty’s  arrival,  and  must  move  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  harbor.  The  Icelandic  committee-man 
protested  against  this  Danish  interference;  our  cap- 
tain remained  neutral,  and  we  kept  away  from  the 
dispute.  It  was  some  time  before  the  matter  was  set- 
tled. Denmark  conquered,  Iceland  yielded  and  went 
away.  We  hove  anchor  and  moved  to  a new  position, 
and  here  we  are,  at  last,  free  to  set  foot  ashore  ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

REJKIAVIK  AND  THF.  KING’S  ARRIVAL. 

Rejkiavik,  July  30. 

1 A S soon  as  our  steamer  was  fairly  moored  last  even- 
ing  we  got  into  the  boats  and  went  ashore.  There 
is  a beach  three  or  four  hundred  yards  long,  with, 
several  wooden  jetties  running  down  -into  the  water, 
the  rise  of  the  tide  here  being  seventeen  feet.  There 
was  quite  a little  crowd  waiting  to  receive  us,  and  our 
friend  Magnusson  no  sooner  landed  than  he  was  recog- 
nized and  heartily  embraced  by  both  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. One  of  the  first  was  Sheriff  Thorstenson,  for 
whom  I had  a package  of  letters.  It  was  very  evident 
that  all  Rejkiavik  was  in  a state  of  unusual  excitement 
and  expectation.  The  people  greeted  us  respectfully 
on  all  sides,  but  in  spite  of  their  apparent  curiosity, 
asked  no  questions. 

Smooth,  tolerably  broad  streets  of  volcanic  sand  and 
gravel,  with  flagged  sidewalks ; square  wooden  houses, 
which  seemed  stately  in  comparison  with  those  of 
Thorshavn ; merchant’s  store-houses,  without  signs, 
yet  generally  thronged  with  people ; little  gardens  of 
cauliflower,  radishes,  and  turnips;  white  curtains, 
pots  of  geranium,  mignonnette,  and  roses  in  the  win- 


ICELAND. 


19S 

dows,  and  ruddy  sun-browned  faces  looking  out  upon 
us — such  were  the  features  of  the  place  which  first 
caught  the  eye.  Flags  floated  from  all  the  larger 
buildings,  and  a new  jetty,  with  a crimson  canopy, 
was  in  preparation  for  the  royal  landing.  A few  offi- 
cers and  sailors  from  the  foreign  men-of-war  were 
mixed  with  the  crowd,  taking  aw'ay  something  from 
its  distinctive  Icelandic  character. 

Herr  Magnusson  fortunately  espied  Zoega,  the  man 
of  all  others  whom  we  desired  first  to  meet.  In  order 
to  accompany  the  royal  party  to  Thingvalla  and  the 
Geysers,  and  to  take  part  in  the  national  celebration 
at  the  former  place,  horses,  guides,  and  tents  were 
necessary.  With  the  usual  scanty  travel,  Rejkiavik 
and  the  immediate  neighborhood  are  unprovided  for 
an  emergency  like  the  present;  the  King  and  his 
company  alone  have  ordered  one  hundred  and  sixty 
ponies.  Zoega  hesitated,  according  to  the  habit  of 
his  race,  promised  nothing  positively,  but  agreed  to 
breakfast  with  us  this  morning — which,  as  matters 
have  since  turned  out,  meant  that  he  was  willing  to 
try,  and  believed  that  he  should  succeed.  We  next 
called  on  Herr  Thomsen,  one  of  the  principal  mer- 
chants, who  was  most  generous  in  the  offer  of  his  ser- 
vices, and  has  since  given  us  much  more  of  his  time 
than  we  could  expect  him  to  surrender  on  a day  like 
this. 

Finding  that  I had  a letter  to  the  Danish  Governor, 
Finsen,  Mr.  Thomsen  accompanied  me  to  the  Gov- 
ernment House,  a white  mansion  on  a knoll  which 
slopes  down  bright  and  green  to  a little  canal,  con- 
6 


REJKIAVIK  AND  THE  KING' S ARRIVAL,  igg 

necting  the  harbor  with  a lake  behind  the  town.  In 
the  official  chamber  I found  a courteous  gentleman  in 
uniform,  who  regretted  that  his  Majesty’s  coming 
would  lessen  his  power  to  show  the  desirable  amount 
of  attention  to  our  party.  He  volunteered,  however, 
to  secure  us  good  places  for  the  services  in  the  Ca- 
thedral, next  Sunday;  and  this  was  really  all  we 
needed.  Coming  forth  from  the  presence,  I followed 
the  tracks  of  my  friends,  and  presently  found  them 
at  the  house  of  Dr.  Jon  Hjaltalin,  editor  of  the  Sce- 
mundur  Frocii,  a strong,  ruddy-cheeked,  gray-haired 
son  of  the  North,  in  whose  welcome  there  was  no  un- 
certain sound.  He  spoke  English  readily,  gave  evi- 
dence of  much  and  various  knowledge,  and  seemed 
rejoiced  to  meet  his  journalistic  brethren  of  other 
lands.  We  had  a most  agreeable  visit  of  half  an 
hour,  and  then  returned  through  the  main  street, 
seeking  the  house  of  Sheriff  Thorshenson.  I asked  a 
man  who  was  mending  the  street  whether  he  spoke 
Danish;  he  shook  his  head  but  called  another  work- 
man, who  at  once  guided  us  to  the  Sheriffs  door,  and 
when  I offered  him  a piece  of  money,  laughed  as  if  it 
were  a good  joke,  and  ran  away. 

By  this  time  it  was  late,  and  twilight  was  gathering 
apace  under  the  dark,  rainy  sky.  We  returned  to  the 
steamer  for  supper,  and  slept  in  delightful  quiet  after 
the  restless  torment  of  the  gale.  This  morning  the 
wind  still  blew,  the  dark  clouds  hung  low  on  all  the 
hills,  rainy  gusts  swept  the  harbor,  and  the  thermom- 
eter on  deck  stood  at  48’.  But  the  Danish  vessel,  the 
Fylhi,  got  up  steam  early,  and  went  down  the  fiord  in 


200 


ICELAND. 


search  of  the  royal  frigates.  The  preparations  on 
shore  were  completed  by  this  time,  although  as  late 
as  yesterday  some  persons  were  engaged  in  giving  the 
black  paling  around  their  gardens  a gayer  coat  of 
paint.  Whether  the  town  has  been  specially  cleaned 
for  the  occasion  I know  not,  but  it  is  certainly  very 
trim  and  tidy. 

By  ten  o’clock  the  vessels  were  signalled  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  immediately  the  men-of-war  began  their 
decorations.  I looked  for  an  increase  of  flags  on  shore, 
but  there  was  not  half  so  many  as  at  Thorshavn.  In 
half  an  hour  the  foreign  frigates  were  all  in  a flutter 
of  brilliant  colors,  and  even  our  little  Albion  made  a 
gallant  show.  The  people  crowded  the  beach  even 
before  the  Danish  masts  made  their  appearance  above 
the  low  western  head-land.  Then  the  yards  were 
manned,  French,  German  and  Swedish  officers  came 
on  deck  in  full  uniform,  boatswains  and  gunners  took 
their  stations,  and — it  began  to  rain.  Nearer,  but 
very  slowly,  came  the  expected  vessels ; as  the  Jylland 
appeared  in  full  view  between  the  islands,  the  first  can- 
non blazed,  flash,  smoke  and  thunder  followed  in  rapid 
succession  from  the  five  hulls,  the  rocky  shores  sent 
back  their  echoes,  and  the  whole  harbor  rang.  There 
was  no  fort  on  shore,  scarcely  a cannon  ; the  people 
stood  as  a dark  line  in  front  of  the  houses,  silent  and 
motionless.  The  salute  was  answered  by  the  Heimdal, 
while  the  King’s  vessel  passed  between  the  foreign  fri- 
gates, the  sailors  of  the  latter  cheering  lustily.  The 
quarter-deck  was  left  to  His  Majesty,  who  stood  beside 
the  mizzen-mast,  with  the  Prince  at  a little  distance. 


REJKIA  VIK  AND  THE  KING'S  ARRIVAL.  201 

The  cannon-smoke  drifted  over  the  water,  and  thus 
the  national  song  of  Denmark  was  suggested: 

“ King  Christian  stood  by  the  lofty  mast, 

In  mist  and  smoke  ! ” 

Then  anchors  dropped,  a boat  pulled  ashore,  Gov. 
Finsen  came  off,  and  the  commanders  of  the  foreign 
vessels  called  to  pay  their  respects.  Our  party  was 
hungry  and  went  to  dinner. 

We  had  scarcely  been  helped  to  a superb  Iceland 
salmon,  when  there  were  signs  that  the  royal  landing 
was  about  to  come  off.  The  boats  were  made  ready 
in  all  haste  ; we  rushed  from  the  table  and  pushed  for 
the  shore,  but  His  Majesty  was  already  under  way. 
His  boat  and  our  two  were  nearly  abreast ; He  had 
eight  oars,  and  we  but  three  apiece.  I saw  no  other 
small  craft  moving  in  the  harbor  ; everybody  seemed 
to  be  ashore.  The  Danish  flag  on  one  side,  and  the 
American  and  English  on  the  other  seemed  to  be  run- 
ning a desperate  race;  the  Icelanders  must  have  en- 
joyed the  spectacle,  if  they  had  not  been,  probably, 
too  excited  to  notice  it.  Urged  by  words  and  prom- 
ises of  reward,  our  sailors  did  their  best,  and  just  as 
the  King  stepped  upon  the  scarlet  cloth  of  his  land- 
ing place,  we  sprang  upon  the  nearest  jetty. 

The  formal  reception  by  the  authorities  of  Iceland 
and  the  delegates  of  the  people  was  almost  private  in 
its  character.  The  royal  pier  sloped  down  to  a plat- 
form, between  a double  row  of  Danish  flags  hung 
with  green  garlands.  The  gentlemen  stood  on  this 
platform,  and  none  of  their  addresses  or  the  replies 


202 


ICELAND. 


thereto  were  audible  at  a distance  of  thirty  feet.  A 
small  crowd  of  people,  gathered  on  the  sand  at  the 
edge  of  the  water,  cheered  with  some  heartiness,  but 
the  main  body  of  the  people,  about  two  thousand  in 
number,  kept  silent,  as  they  heard  nothing.  In  ten 
minutes  all  was  over  : the  Governor  came  up  the 
pier,  followed  by  the  King  and  Prince,  both  walking 
rapidly  and  looking  very  cheerful  and  amiable.  They 
were  received  with  a cheer  which  was  evidently  genu- 
ine, if  not  loud  nor  universal.  The  people  seemed 
unused  to  such  a demonstration  ; in  fact,  I noticed 
several  who  opened  their  mouths  as  they  took  off  their 
hats,  made  the  beginningof  a shout,  and  then  timidly 
gave  it  up. 

After  the  King’s  suite  came  the  chief  officials,  the 
bishop  in  velvet  and  satin,  a snowy  Elizabethan  ruff, 
and  a high  hat,  the  clergyman,  and  the  members  of 
the  native  committee — the  latter  strong,  ruddy,  farmer- 
looking men,  whose  white  gloves  did  not  harmonize 
with  their  heavy  brown  coats.  There  were  about  forty 
persons  in  all,  and  the  whole  crowd  fell  in  behind 
them  as  they  advanced  toward  the  Governor’s  resi- 
dence. A number  of  men,  running  along  the  beach, 
gained  the  little  open  common  before  the  King  ap- 
peared, and  greeted  him  again  with  much  the  most 
enthusiastic  cheer  of  the  day.  The  door  of  the  Gov- 
ernor’s house  opened  and  Madame  Finsen  appeared, 
dressed  in  a simple  black  silk,  without  any  ornaments. 
She  descended  the  steps  of  the  first  garden  terrace, 
curtsied  at  the  right  moment  to  the  royal  guest,  a little 
less  deeply  to  the  Prince,  and  accompanied  them  to 


REJKIAVIK  AND  THE  KING' S ARRIVAL.  203 


the  door.  This  sounds  like  a very  simple  matter ; but 
not  many  ladies  would  have  accomplished  it  with 
such  admirable  grace,  tact,  and  self-possession.  All 
Rejkiavik  was  looking  on;  the  sun  flashed  out  as  if 
on  purpose  to  light  up  this  little  episode,  and  thus  the 
first  landing  of  a Danish  king  on  the  soil  of  Iceland 
came  to  an  end. 

The  Bishop,  Committee,  and  other  officials  waited 
at  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  until  summoned  by  a 
chamberlain  in  a red  coat,  when  they  too  disappeared 
behind  the  Governor's  door.  I now  turned  to  inspect 
the  crowd,  and  found  to  my  surprise  that  the  women 
were  much  more  picturesque  figures  than  the  men. 
Many  of  them  wore  square  boddices  of  some  dark 
color,  a gown  with  many  pleats  about  the  waist,  with 
bright  blue  or  red  aprons.  Nearly  all  had  a flat  cap — 
or,  rather,  a circular  piece  of  black  cloth — on  the  top 
of  the  head,  with  a long  black  tassel  on  one  side, 
hanging  from  a silver  or  gilded  cylindrical  ring,  an 
inch  or  two  in  length.  These  rings  are  precisely  like 
those  which  the  women  of  Cairo  wear  over  the  nose, 
to  hold  the  veil  in  its  place.  Some  of  the  girls  had 
their  hair  braided,  but  many  wore  it  loose;  and  I saw 
one  maiden  whose  magnificent  pale  yellow  mane  sug- 
gested a descent  from  Brynhilde.  The  men  showed 
only  two  colors — the  brown  of  their  wadmal  coats  and 
trowsers  and  the  ruddy  tan  of  their  faces.  Few  of 
them  are  handsome,  and  their  faces  are  grave  and 
undemonstrative;  but  they  inspire  confidence  by  the 
simple  strength  expressed  in  the  steady  blue  eye  and 
the  firm  set  of  the  lips.  There  were  plenty  of  tawny 


204 


ICELAND. 


or  piebald  ponies  with  manes  like  lions,  in  the  streets. 
I suppose  many  healths  must  have  been  drunk  during 
the  day,  for  the  old  Norse  habit  still  flourishes  here ; 
but  I saw  only  one  man  who  was  somewhat  unsteady 
on  his  legs,  while  he  managed  to  keep  his  face  sober. 

In  the  afternoon,  under  the  guidance  of  Herr  Mag- 
nusson,  we  made  a number  of  visits.  Bishop  Pjetur- 
son  first  received  us,  and  with  a gentle,  refined 
courtesy  becoming  his  station.  Conversation  was  car- 
ried on  in  French  with  himself,  in  English  with  his 
son,  and  in  Danish  with  his  wife.  A bottle  of  cham- 
pagne was  produced,  and  the  kind  hosts  touched 
glasses  with  us,  in  welcome  to  Iceland.  We  explain- 
ed our  object  in  coming,  told  of  the  interest  felt  by 
our  countrymen  in  this  rare  historical  anniversary, 
and  claimed  kinship  of  blood  on  the  score  of  the 
early  relationship  of  Goth  and  Saxon,  and  our  own 
later  infusion  of  the  Norman  element.  There  is  no 
Icelander— no  Scandinavian,  indeed — but  knows  and 
is  proud  of  the  race  from  which  he  is  descended. 

Our  next  call  was  on  Herr  Thorberg,  Governor  of 
the  Southern  Syssel  (District)  of  Iceland.  Madame 
Thorberg  spoke  English  with  fluency  and  elegance, 
— in  fact,  we  have  discovered  that  the  Rejkiavik  ladies 
generally  speak  English  and  the  gentlemen  French. 
Then  we  visited,  in  turn,  the  Professor  of  Theology, 
the  Dean,  and  the  Rector  of  the  University.  The 
latter  gentleman  had  heard  of  the  collection  of  vol- 
umes for  Iceland  made  in  America — mainly  through 
the  efforts  of  Prof.  Willard  Fiske  of  Cornell  Univer- 
sity,— but  stated  that,  with  the  exception  of  a case  of 


REJKIA  VIA ' AND  THE  KING'S  ARRIVAL.  205 


publications  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute,  nothing  of 
it  had  yet  arrived.  The  duplicate  volumes,  when 
they  come,  are  to  be  sent  to  Akureyri,  the  northern 
capital. 

It  was  stretching  the  hospitality  of  the  gentlemen 
almost  too  far  to  visit  them  toward  the  close  of  a day 
so  important  and  exciting  for  them  ; but  nothing  could 
exceed  the  genial  warmth  and  kindliness  of  our  re- 
ception. I notice  something  of  the  same  quiet  dignity, 
which  is  a characteristic  of  the  upper  classes,  also 
among  the  common  people.  It  must  be  a chief  fea- 
ture of  the  Gothic  blood,  for  it  exists  in  the  same  form 
in  Spain  and  some  provinces  of  Sweden.  Such  men 
will  take  your  pay  and  serve  you  faithfully,  but  you 
must  never  forget  to  treat  them  as  equals.  The  im- 
pression which  the  Icelanders  have  made  upon  me, 
thus  far,  is  unexpectedly  agreeable.  I am  convinced 
that  I should  find  the  ways  of  the  people  easy  to 
adopt,  and  that,  once  adopting  (or  at  least  respecting) 
them,  I should  encounter  none  but  friends  all  over  the 
island. 

As  for  Rejkiavik,  it  is  far  from  being  the  dark,  dirty, 
malodorous  town  which  certain  English  and  German 
travellers  describe.  The  streets  are  broad  and  clean, 
the  houses  exceedingly  cosy  and  pleasant,  the  turf  of 
the  greenest,  the  circle  of  the  fiord  and  mountains 
truly  grand,  and  only  the  absence  of  any  tree  sug- 
gests its  high  latitude. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FURTHER  IMPRESSIONS  OF  ICELAND. 

Rejkiavik,  August  I. 

I”  CAN  scarcely  continue  to  give  a coherent  record 
of  events,  for,  in  a place  so  remote  and  original  in 
its  character,  everything  that  happens  seems  to  bear 
a certain  stamp  of  interest.  If  you  step  on  a blossom, 
it  may  be  an  arctic  plant,  unknown  elsewhere;  if  a 
bird  flies  overhead,  it  is  probably  an  eider  duck ; if  a 
boy  speaks  in  the  street,  he  may  use  words  made  ven- 
erable in  the  Eddas  of  Saemund  and  Snorre  Sturlus- 
son.  Isolation,  separate  development,  prevalence  of 
elements  that  have  perished  in  other  lands,  make  Ice- 
land a stud>  by  itself.  Scarcely  anything  I have 
learned  in  former  travel,  even  in  Sweden  and  Norway, 
explains  the  features  of  life  here.  Anchored  in  the 
middle  of  the  Northern  Ocean,  between  two  conti- 
nents, the  island  belongs  but  very  slightly  to  either. 
But  the  simplest  form  of  narration,  after  all,  is  the 
truest,  and  I know  no  better  plan  than  to  give  the 
events  and  impressions  of  our  days  in  the  exact  order 
in  which  they  come  to  us.  Yesterday,  for  instance, 
furnished  us  with  a different  stock,  and,  inasmuch  as 
there  is  no  further  public  ceremony  until  Sunday,  we 
let  ourselves  comfortably  drift  along  the  current  of 
chances,  appropriating  no  hour  in  advance. 


FURTHER  IMPRESSIONS  OF  ICELAND.  207 

The  sweep  of  mountain  shores  inclosing  the  north- 
ern extremity  of  the  Faxa  Fiord,  and  the  inland 
ranges  have  been  gradually  growing  into  form  since 
our  arrival,  and  almost  every  hour  brings  out  some 
unexpected  feature  from  behind  the  drop-curtain  of 
cloud  which  at  first  concealed  them.  To-day,  the 
panorama  is  surprising.  Sixty-five  miles  to  the  west, 
floating  on  the  sea  like  an  iceberg,  shines  the  un- 
broken white  mass  of  the  Snaefells  Jokull.  North- 
ward of  him  the  land  disappears,  to  emerge  again  in 
sharp  blue  peaks,  which  are  overlapped  by  higher  and 
nearer  promontories,  until,  across  the  last  bight  of 
the  fiord,  the  bare  mountains  show  every  gully  and 
ravine,  every  streak  of  snow,  patch  of  pale  green 
herbage  or  purple  volcanic  rock.  Sun  and  shadow, 
ever  in  motion  over  their  sides,  make  continual  and 
exquisite  changes  of  color.  Inland,  there  is  the  great- 
est variety  of  outline,  from  the  turfy  shores  to  the 
horns,  peaks,  and  rampart-like  ridges  in  the  distance. 
The  air  is  wonderfully  clear,  so  that  the  tints  of  the 
great  panorama — which  has  a sweep  of  over  a hundred 
miles— are  marked  by  the  greatest  possible  delicacy 
and  purity.  Without  being  deep  and  glowing,  as  in 
the  South,  they  produce  almost  the  same  effect,  and 
there  are  moments  when  one  can  only  think  of  the 
Mediterranean  and  the  Grecian  Archipelago. 

We  spent  yesterday  morning  on  shore.  The  sailors 
filled  our  water  casks  at  the  town  pump,  some  of  the 
party  bought  eider-down  or  photographs,  others  paid 
further  visits  of  ceremony.  Captain  Howling,  propos- 
ing to  take  stones  from  the  nearest  harbor  island  as 


208 


ICELAND. 


ballast,  was  quite  taken  aback  by  the  refusal  of  the 
proprietor  to  allow  any  portion  of  his  volcanic  real 
estate  to  be  carried  away.  The  reason  given  was  that 
the  island  would  be  gradually  diminished  in  size,  and 
furnish  so  much  the  less  brooding-ground  for  eider 
duck ! These  self-sacrificing  birds  make  their  nests 
almost  in  the  outskirts  of  Rejkiavik.  They  are  pro- 
tected by  law,  and  show  no  fear  of  men. 

I called  upon  the  French  Consul  and  his  family,  and 
the  Chief-Justice  of  Iceland,  finding,  as  everywhere 
else,  intelligence,  refinement-,  and  a most  kindly  hos- 
pitality. The  young  ladies  spoke  English  and  French 
with  fluency.  The  long  Winter,  during  which  no 
steamer  comes  from  Denmark  and  the  rest  of  the 
world,  has  no  practical  existence  for  them,  is  devoted 
to  reading  and  study,  and  they  thus  fully  keep  pace 
with  their  sisters  in  other  lands. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  captain  proposed  a boat  ex- 
cursion to  a hot  spring  near  the  shore,  a mile  or  two 
from  the  town,  and  three  of  us  joined  him.  On  the 
way  we  called  on  the  German  frigate  Niobc,  to  whose 
first  officer,  Capt. -Lieut.  Von  Schroder,  I had  been 
commended  by  his  friends  in  Erfurt  and  Gotha.  The 
vessel,  of  stanch  old  English  build,  is  used  as  a train- 
ing-ship for  cadets,  of  whom  there  are  at  present 
thirty-five  onboard.  Our  reception  by  all  the  officers 
was  so  hearty  that  it  could  only  terminate  in  mutual 
invitations  to  lunch  and  dinner.  Officers  of  the  army 
are  proverbially  strictly  national,  officers  of  the  navy 
cosmopolitan  ; but  I should  be  glad  if  our  gentlemen 
of  the  latter  estate  were  able  to  speak  to  visitors,  in  a 


FURTHER  IMPRESSIONS  OF  ICELAND.  209 


foreign  port,  in  their  own  language,  as  every  one  of 
these  was,  and  to  discuss  Literature  and  Art  as 
eagerly  and  intelligently  as  old  traditions  of  the  ser- 
vice. 

We  pushed  off  at  last,  hoisted  a sail,  and  swiftly 
ran  along  the  coast,  seeking  for  the  embouchure  of  a 
river,  which  is  fed  from  the  hot  springs.  The  wind 
enabled  us  to  skirt  the  rough  basaltic  shore  closely, 
without  much  danger  of  staving  in  the  bottom  of  our 
little  craft,  but  we  failed  to  detect  the  exact  point. 
There  was  a two-story  house  of  stone  on  a broad  head- 
land ; several  boys  on  ponies  came  dashing  down  the 
green  slope  behind  it,  and  a group  of  children  at  a 
little  cove  seemed  to  watch  our  movements  with  much 
interest.  We  found,  too  late,  that  they  were  beacons 
to  the  entrance  of  the  hot  river.  Our  only  profit  from 
the  trip  was  the  sight  of  an  enormous  seal — it  could 
hardly  have  been  less  than  twelve  feet  in  length — 
which  every  now  and  then  popped  up  its  huge,  stupid 
head  behind  us.  After  a dance  of  nearly  two  hours 
over  the  rough  waves,  we  were  glad  to  return  and 
leave  the  hot  springs  from  which  Rejkiavik  (the 
smoking  or  steaming  harbor)  is  said  to  derive  its  name. 

Our  visits  on  shore . have  been  continued  to-day. 
They  are  always  agreeable,  but  so  much  alike  in  form 
of  reception,  heartiness  of  welcome,  and  even  the  ma- 
terial features  of  the  residences,  that  it  is  scarcely  nec- 
essary to  describe  them  in  succession.  The  best 
houses  in  the  town  are  very  much  alike  in  structure 
and  internal  arrangement.  There  is  usually  a little 
hall  or  ante-room,  about  large  enough  to  pull  off  an 


210 


ICELAND. 


overcoat  in,  then  the  study  or  reception-room  of  the 
owner,  according  to  his  profession,  and  beyond  it  the 
salon  where  the  ladies  receive  their  guests.  White 
curtains,  pots  of  flowers  in  the  windows,  a carpet  on  the 
floor,  a sofa,  centre-table  with  books  and  photographs, 
and  pictures  on  the  walls  are  the  invariable  features 
of  this  apartment;  and  in  spite  of  the  lowness  of  the 
ceiling  and  other  primitive  architectural  characteris- 
tics, it  is  always  cheerful,  bright  and  agreeable. 
Rocking-chairs  are  not  uncommon,  and  the  guest 
easily  forgets  both  latitude  and  locality  as  he  looks 
out  upon  currant-bushes  and  potato-plants,  while  con- 
versing with  a grave,  earnest-faced  young  lady  upon 
Shakespeare,  German  literature,  or  the  latest  music. 

The  common  people — if  one  has  a right  to  use  the 
word  “common”  in  referring  to  such  a people — are 
still  something  of  a puzzle  to  me.  Except  among  our 
Indian  tribes,  I never  saw  such  stoical,  indifferent 
faces.  They  watch  us  with  a curiosity  which  is  in- 
tense, but  never  obtrusive,  yet  when  I attempt  to 
make  a nearer  acquaintance  through  the  medium  of 
Danish  they  are  shy  and  shrinking  to  such  an  extent 
that  they  do  not  attempt  to  conceal  it.  The  average 
stature  is  short,  not  above  five  feet  six  inches,  the 
complexion  of  a coarse,  ruddy  brown,  hair  generally 
blonde  and  straight,  eyes  blue  or  gray,  body  broad, 
short,  and  compact,  with  short,  sturdy  limbs,  large 
hands  and  feet — in  fact  a general  aspect  of  rough 
vigor,  but  also  of  something  more  than  that.  What 
this  something  may  be  it  will  be  my  task  to  discover 
when  we  go  into  the  interior  of  the  island. 


FURTHER  IMPRESSIONS  OF  ICELAND.  2x1 


This  morning  some  of  our  party  took  ponies  and 
rode  out  to  the  Laxa,  or  Salmon  River,  about  four 
miles  from  here.  Mr.  Thomsen,  a very  enterprising 
and  obliging  merchant,  who  supplies  our  vessel  dur- 
ing her  stay  here,  accompanied  them  as  he  had  ac- 
companied the  King  yesterday.  The  salmon  were  not 
quite  so  ready  to  be  captured  as  His  Majesty  found 
them  (a  circumstance  I will  not  endeavor  to  explain), 
but  I believe  ours  caught  a dozen,  some  of  which  have 
been  ordered  to  be  “ kippered  ” for  friends  and  fami- 
lies. I have  never  tasted  fish  more  succulent,  prodi- 
gal of  flesh,  or  delicious  in  flavor. 

The  journey  to  Thingvalla  and  the  Geysers  gives  us 
some  anxiety.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  'to  take  a 
tent,  as  every  farm-byre  in  the  neighborhood  is  sure 
to  be  crowded  by  family  and  friends,  and  the  churches 
(the  only  hotels  to  be  reckoned  upon  in  Iceland)  will 
be  opened  to  the  multitude.  In  a land  like  this,  where 
the  tavern  is  unknown  and  private  hospitality  is  so 
limited  by  the  scanty  resources  of  the  people,  I find 
it  simply  and  entirely  Christian  that  the  Church 
should  be  opened  to  shelter  the  weary  traveller,  to 
give  him  a roof  in  the  season  of  cold  and  rain,  and  to 
protect  his  nightly  slumbers.  But  we  hear  of  so 
many  families  who  are  going  to  attend  the  ceremonies 
at  Thingvalla  that  some  prudence  is  absolutely  pre- 
scribed. The  King’s  guide,  Zoega,  promises  us  thirty 
horses,  with  saddles,  packs,  and  provision-boxes. 

During  the  two  days  of  the  King’s  stay  he  has  been 
gaining  in  popularity.  His  frank,  handsome  face  at- 
tracts the  people  ; they  find  him  easily  accessible,  and 


212 


ICELAND. 


the  interest  he  takes  in  all  matters  which  concern 
them  is  evidently  not  assumed.  To-day  he  paid  a 
visit  to  the  old  Bjarne  Thorsteinson  (father  of  the 
Sheriff),  who  is  ninety-four  years  old  and  has  been 
blind  for  a long  time.  Entering  unannounced,  His 
Majesty  greeted  the  old  man,  taking  his  hand.  "Who 
are  you?  ” said  the  latter,  “ I don’t  know  you  ; what 
is  your  name  ? ” “I  am  called  Christian  the  Ninth,” 
said  the  King.  “ Well,  then,”  Bjarne  remarked, 
“ if  you  take  a blind  man  by  surprise,  you  must  ex- 
pect to  hear  such  questions.” 

All  looks  well  for  the  festival  to-morrow. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THF.  MILLENNIAL  CELEBRATION  AT  REJKIAVIK. 

REJKIAVIK,  Sunday  Evening,  August  2. 
HE  first  of  the  two  days  set  apart  for  the  com- 


memorative festivities  dawned  cloudless  and 
splendid.  A sharp  wind  from  the  north,  before  sun- 
rise, blew  away  every  vestige  of  mist  or  cloud ; Snaefell 
gleamed  like  an  opal  over  the  water,  and  when,  at 
eight  o’clock,  a gun  from  the  King’s  frigate  gave  sig- 
nal, the  gleam  and  sparkle  of  the  linked  flags,  as  they 
ran  up  to  peak  and  yard-arm  and  down  to  the  water, 
was  something  really  glorious  to  behold.  On  shore 
there  were  signs  of  gathering  and  preparation,  and 
many  a line  of  moving  specks  on  ths  far  hills  showed 
that  the  country  people  were  betimes  on  the  way. 

The  programme  for  the  day  consisted  of  commemo- 
rative services  in  the  Cathedral,  a banquet  in  the  hall 
of  the  University,  and  a popular  festival  on  the  hill  of 
Austurvelli,  a mile  from  the  town.  The  last  feature 
promised  to  be  the  most  attractive,  since,  after  songs 
and  speeches,  there  were  to  be  dancing  and  flugcldrar 
myklir- — “great  flying  fires.”  The  new  Constitution, 
which  went  into  force  yesterday,  has  not  been  an- 
nounced with  any  special  ceremonies.  Copies  of  it 
had  already  reached  Iceland,  the  people  were  very 


214 


ICELAND. 


generally  acquainted  with  its  provisions,  and  content 
to  accept  it  as  the  beginning  of  a reform.  The  cele- 
brations, here  to-day,  and  on  Friday  next  at  Thing- 
valla,  have  therefore  a historical  rather  than  a politi- 
cal character. 

We  went  ashore  at  half-past  ten  o’clock,  and  found 
everybody  hastening  toward  the  Cathedral.  The  open, 
grassy  square  around  the  old  building  was  covered 
with  picturesque  groups  of  people;  the  lake  in  the 
rear  of  the  town  glittered  in  the  sun,  and  the  high 
peak  of  Keylur  slept  in  the  blue  distance.  Genuine 
Icelandic  costumes  appeared  at  last,  and  original  and 
graceful  they  were.  The  women  wore  white  helmets 
of  a curious  pattern,  the  horn  curving  over  in  front,  six 
inches  above  the  head,  the  base  richly  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  a white  veil  thrown  over  all  and  float- 
ing upon  the  shoulders.  They  had  also  closely-fitting 
jackets  of  dark  cloth,  heavily  braided  with  gold  or  sil- 
ver, and  broad  belts  of  silver  filigree  work.  Not  more 
than  half  a dozen  of  the  men,  in  all,  wore  the  old 
national  costume.  It  consists  of  a jacket  and  knee- 
breeches  of  dark-gray  homespun  cloth,  stockings  of 
the  same  color,  seal-skin  shoes,  and  a round  hat  with 
the  brim  turned  up.  The  only  ornament  is  a bow  of 
red  ribbon  at  the  knee. 

The  king  and  his  cortege  had  just  entered  the 
Cathedral  as  we  reached  it,  and  the  foreign  naval 
officers  who  had  been  invited  to  the  ceremony  were 
crowding  with  the  natives  into  the  low  northern  portal. 
We  had  been  furnished  with  slips  of  parchment  as  ad- 
mission tickets  to  seats  in  the  main  isle,  and  the  sacris- 


THE  MILLENNIAL  CELEBRATION.  215 

tan  placed  us  in  front,  opposite  the  bishop’s  pulpit. 
The  choir  was  singing  one  of  ten  new  anthems  com- 
posed for  the  occasion ; lights  were  burning  in  the 
chandeliers  on  the  altar,  and  between  the  gallery-pil- 
lars ; wreaths  of  heather  decorated  the  walls,  choir, 
and  galleries,  and  there  was  a glow  of  flowers  around 
Thorwaldsen’s  baptismal  font.  The  dull  red  of  the 
walls  and  dark  panels  of  the  wooden  ceiling  harmo- 
nized well  with  these  simple  adornments ; the  building 
wore  an  aspect  of  cheerful  solemnity,  becoming  the  occa- 
sion. The  seats  filled  rapidly  during  the  chant,  men 
and  women  sitting  together  as  they  could  find  places. 
Then  the  service  commenced,  after  the  ancient  Lu- 
theran fashion.  In  fact  it  was  nearly  an  exact  repetition 
of  that  we  had  seen  in  Thorshavn,  except  that  the 
Icelandic  language  was  used.  The  hymns  were  very 
simply  and  grandly  sung  ; and  the  “ Psalm  of  Praise,” 
written  by  Matthias  Jochumsson,  and  composed  by 
Sveinbjornsson — the  first  musical  work  by  a native 
Icelander,  I am  told— produced  a powerful  effect.  In 
whichever  direction  I looked,  I saw  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
The  repetition  of  the  refrain  : Islands  thusund  dr 
“ Iceland’s  thousand  years,”  rang  through  the  Cathe- 
dral in  tones  which  were  solemn  rather  than  proud, 
and  gave  expression  to  the  earnest  religious  spirit  in 
which  the  people  had  come  together. 

The  sermon,  by  Bishop  Pjetursson,  was  quite  unin- 
telligible to  me.  It  was  delivered  in  a lamenting,  al- 
most lachrymose  voice,  with  scarcely  a change  of  in- 
flection from  beginning  to  end  ; and  the  impression, 
if  any  were  really  intended,  must  have  been  much 


2l6 


ICELAND. 


diminished  by  the  copious  doses  of  snuff  taken  by  the 
speaker,  and  the  appearance  of  his  handkerchief,  as 
it  lay  on  the  pulpit-desk.  The  exercises  lasted  for  an 
hour  and  a half,  closing  with  another  glorious  anthem. 
By  following  the  printed  words,  as  they  were  sung  by 
the  choir,  I not  only  acquired  the  pronunciation  of  the 
language,  but  perceived  its  admirable  adaptability  to 
music  and  poetry.  The  meaning  of  many  of  the 
words  came  to  me,  without  their  grammar,  making 
clear,  at  least,  the  general  sense  of  the  hymn. 

The  programme  for  the  popular  celebration  in  the 
evening  included  a procession,  which  should  leave  the 
Cathedral-square  at  half-past  three  o’clock.  Many  of 
the  people,  however,  hurried  away  before  that  hour, 
as  if  shy  to  take  part  in  anything  so  formal,  while 
groups  of  others  lingered  about  the  place,  waiting  for 
some  voice  of  organization  which  never  came.  At 
least,  up  to  four  o’clock,  when  Mr:  Field,  Dr.  Hayes, 
and  myself  betook  ourselves  to  the  royal  banquet, 
there  were  no  indications  that  any  procession  would 
be  formed. 

At  the  University  Building  a lackey  in  a scarlet  coat 
took  our  hats  and  mantles,  and  directed  us  to  the 
waiting-room  up  stairs.  A number  of  Icelanders  from 
the  country  were  allowed  to  go  up  and  down,  to  peep 
into  the  dining-halls,  inspect  the  musicians  and  their 
instruments,  and  otherwise  indulge  their  curiosity.  It 
must  have  been  an  extraordinary  sight  to  the  most  of 
them.  The  royal  pantries,  extemporized  out  of  the 
recitation  rooms,  seemed  to  attract  them  especially, 
and  even  the  empty  dish  had  its  interest  for  them  un- 


THE  MILLENNIAL  CELEBRA  TION.  217 


til  the  viands  began  to  appear.  By  twos  and  threes 
and  half  dozens  the  guests  gathered.  Except  the  Ice- 
landers, the  Danish  poet  Carl  Andersen,  and  our- 
selves, all  were  in  civil,  military,  or  naval  uniform. 
The  Royal  Marshal,  Baron  Holten,  who  seems  to 
have  been  chosen,  like  his  fellow  Marshals  at  all 
Courts,  for  love  of  good  cheer  and  good-fellowship, 
Governor  Finssen,  Minister  Klein,  Captain  Malte- 
Brun,  Admiral  Lagercrantz,  of  the  Swedish  Navy,  the 
Bishop,  Chief-Justice  Jonasson,  and  finally  our  hale 
and  hearty  friend  Dr.  Hjaltalin,  were  among  the  num- 
ber. Last  of  all  came  Madame  Finssen,  preceding  the 
King  and  Prince  Waldemar.  Tall  and  stately,  in  her 
black  moire  robe,  she  was  as  composed  and  perfect  in 
manner,  as  when  we  saw  her  descend  the  garden  steps 
to  welcome  His  Majesty. 

The  King  walked  around  the  circle  without  any 
ceremony,  exchanging  a few  words  with  each  person 
as  he  passed.  The  Marshal  did  not  make  his  appear- 
ance when  our  turn  came,  so  we  were  self-introduced 
as  American  guests  and  not  as  individuals.  Prince 
Waldemar  is  younger  than  I thought — not  more  than 
eighteen  or  nineteen — and  still  boyishly  diffident  in 
his  manner.  He  seemed  inclined  to  keep  in  the  back- 
ground as  much  as  possible.  I found  Christian  IX.  as 
frank,  simple,  and  cordial  as  he  appeared  at  first. 
What  he  said  it  is  not  necessary  to  repeat,  being  the 
usual  common-places  indulged  in  where  both  sides  are 
restricted  by  etiquette  of  place  and  persons.  There 
was  no  more  than  was  necessary  for  politeness,  on 
cither  side. 


2l3 


ICELAND. 


Finally,  dinner  was  announced,  the  King  gave  his 
arm  to  Madame  Finssen,  the  band  blewits  trumpets, 
and  we  marched  into  the  large  hall  of  the  University, 
which  was  decorated  with  flags,  pyramids  of  rifles, 
stars  of  swords,  and  other  warlike  ornament,  not  quite 
appropriate  to  unarmed  and  peaceful  Iceland.  My 
place  proved  to  be  between  Capt.  Malte-Brun  (a 
nephew  of  the  famous  geographer)  and  an  officer  who 
introduced  himself  as  Commandant  Letourneur  of  the 
French  Navy.  Next  to  him,  at  the  end  of  the  table, 
sat  the  King’s  Adjutant,  Von  Hedemann.  The  menu , 
printed  in  gold,  which  lay  by  my  plate,  announced  a 
dinner  such  as  Iceland  could  scarcely  furnish — and, 
indeed,  although  served  with  delicately  artful  sauces, 
to  disguise  the  fact,  almost  every  dish  came  in  cans 
from  Copenhagen.  The  silver  plate  and  porcelain, 
with  the  royal  arms,  the  wine  glasses,  cakes  and  bon- 
bons— everything,  I think,  except  the  snipe  and  salad, 
were  Danish.  We  had  duck  and  venison,  green  peas, 
truffles,  etc.,  but  the  rarest  thing  for  the  native  guests 
must  have  been  the  dish  of  black  Hamburg  grapes 
which  came  with  the  dessert.  They  were  as  fresh  as 
if  just  plucked. 

The  King  finally  rose,  briefly  expressed  his  thanks 
for  the  friendly  reception  he  had  received,  hoped  that 
the  Constitution  he  had  brought  with  him  might  con- 
tribute to  the  material  prosperity  of  the  islandandthe 
development  of  its  people,  and  closed  with  the  toast ; 
“ Long  live  Old  Iceland  ! ” The  full  force  of  the  band 
struck  in  with  the  cheers  that  followed  ; a signal  from 
the  roof  started  the  cannon  of  the  war  ships  ; shores 


THE  MILLENNIAL  CELEBRATION.  219 


and  harbor  rang,  and  all  the  inhabitants  knew  that 
“ the  King  drinks  to  Iceland  ! ” Klein,  the  Minister 
of  Justice,  next  made  a speech  which  gave  great  sat- 
isfaction, although — so  far  as  I could  understand  it — 
the  substance  appeared  to  be  theoretic  rather  than 
practical.  He  spoke  of  the  mutual  rights  and  duties 
of  monarch  and  people  ; and,  inasmuch  as  his  ex- 
pressions must  have  been  previously  submitted  to  the 
King,  they  were  accepted  by  the  Icelanders  as  virtual- 
ly emanating  from  the  latter.  He  gave  the  health  of 
the  Crown-Prince,  and  there  was  fresh  rejoicing  when 
the  King,  in  returning  thanks,  promised  that  the  lat- 
ter should  learn  the  Icelandic  language.  There  were 
other  toasts  to  the  Queen  of  Denmark,  Prince  Walde- 
mar,  and  the  remaining  members  of  the  Royal  Fami- 
ly, and  then  the  company  rose.  Half  an  hour  was 
devoted  to  cigars,  coffee,  and  conversation  in  the 
outer  hall,  by  which  time  it  was  six  o’clock,  and  the 
people’s  festival  had  commenced  on  the  eastern 
hill. 

The  road  thither  led  past  the  prison,  which  is  al- 
together the  finest  building  in  Rejkiavik.  But,  alas 
for  the  wisdom  of  those  who  decreed  its  erection  ! — it 
waits  in  vain  for  an  inmate.  The  smoothly-cut  walls 
of  gray  lava-stone,  the  cheerful  cells,  the  spacious 
prison-yard  invite  some  one  to  be  culprit  and  enjoy 
their  idle  luxuries ; but  the  people  are  too  ignorant  to 
accept  the  call.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  above 
there  is  a rather  graceful  square  tower,  built  by  the 
students  during  their  play-hours  as  a place  of  shelter 
when  the  weather  was  stormy  ; but  now  it  serves  as  a 


220 


ICELAND. 


beacon  for  vessels  at  sea  and  weary  travellers  ap- 
proaching from  the  interior. 

The  road,  which  was  so  broad  and  smooth  that  it 
must  have  been  specially  made  for  the  festival,  now 
crossed  a long  hollow  in  the  stony  soil,  and  climbed  a 
hill  opposite,  nearly  a mile  away,  where  flags,  tents, 
and  a moving  multitude  announced  the  location  of 
Austurvelli.  The  broad,  rounded  summit  of  the  hill 
had  been  laboriously  cleared  of  stones,  and  furnished 
a space  where  four  or  five  thousand  people  could  have 
been  accommodated;  but  not  more  than  two  thousand 
were  present.  There  were  a rostrum  for  speeches,  a 
tent  for  the  King,  another  tent  which  suggested  a 
possibility  of  refreshments — and  that  was  all.  But 
the  elevation,  slight  as  it  was,  commanded  a singularly 
bleak  and  sublime  panoramic  view.  On  all  sides  the 
eye  overlooked  great  spaces  of  sailless  sea  or  barren 
shore,  until,  fifty  miles  away,  ranges  of  dark  volcanic 
hills  inclosed  the  horizon.  The  level  evening  sun- 
shine fell  coldly  across  the  vast  view,  the  wind  blew 
sharp  and  keen  from  the  north,  and,  with  every  allow- 
ance for  the  tough  constitutions  of  the  Icelandic 
people,  I could  not  see  how  much  festivity  was  to  be 
extracted  from  the  place,  time  and  temperature. 

Nothing  was  done,  of  course,  until  the  King’s  arri- 
val. Then,  in  firing  a salute  with  hand-grenades,  two 
gunners  were  badly  wounded,  one  losing  his  right 
hand.  Finally,  when  the  Royal  progress  had  been 
made  through  lines  of  eagerly  staring  and  embarrassed 
natives,  the  singing  began.  In  Iceland  nothing  is 
done  without  singing,  and  it  is  the  most  attractive 


THE  MILLENNIAL  CELEBRATION.  221 

feature  of  the  celebration  thus  far.  The  song  was  fol- 
lowed by  speeches  from  the  rostrum,  chiefly  greetings 
to  the  people,  winding  up  with  sentiments  and  cheers. 
Admiral  Lagercrantz  spoke  for  Sweden,  Rolfsen,  the 
author,  for  Norway  (and  his  eloquence  awoke  a real 
enthusiasm),  and  then  various  others  followed,  the  ad- 
mirable male  choir  of  Rejkiavik  interrupting  the 
speeches  with  national  songs. 

I have  been  pondering  for  several  minutes  how  to 
introduce  the  next  episode  of  the  celebration.  It  is  so 
easy  for  the  reader  to  disparage,  in  his  thought,  the 
writer  who  is  compelled  to  mention  himself!  Yet  the 
reporter,  as  I am  here,  must  needs  brave  all  prejudice 
of  the  sort,  and  attend  to  his  plain  duty,  first  of  all. 
So  let  it  be  now  ! Two  days  ago  we  were  discussing, 
in  the  cabin  of  our  steamer,  the  question  whether  we 
in  our  capacity  as  Americans  should  make  even  an 
unofficial  representation  at  this  festival.  We  knew 
that  the  Icelanders  desired  that  our  presence,  which 
seemed  to  be  welcome  to  them,  should  be  in  some  way 
manifested  \ yet  it  seemed  difficult  to  decide  how  this 
should  be  done.  The  proposal,  on  my  part,  to  address 
a poetic  greeting  to  Iceland,  was  so  cordially  received 
by  my  companions  that  I could  only  comply.  The 
stanzas  which  follow  were  written  in  all  haste,  in  the 
midst  of  distracting  talk,  and  make  no  claim  to  any 
poetic  merit : 

AMERICA  TO  ICELAND. 

We  come,  the  children  of  thy  Vinland, 

The  youngest  of  the  world’s  high  peers, 


222 


ICELAND. 


O land  of  steel,  and  song,  and  saga, 

To  greet  thy  glorious  thousand  years  ! 

Across  that  sea  the  son  of  Erik 

Dared  with  his  venturous  dragon’s  prow  ; 

From  shores  where  Thorfinn  set  thy  banner, 

Their  latest  children  seek  thee  now. 

Hail,  mother-land  of  skalds  and  heroes, 

By  love  of  freedom  hither  hurled, 

Fire  in  their  hearts  as  in  thy  mountains, 

And  strength  like  thine  to  shake  the  world  ! 

When  war  and  ravage  wrecked  the  nations, 

The  bird  of  song  made  thee  her  home  ; 

The  ancient  gods,  the  ancient  glory, 

Still  dwelt  within  thy  shores  of  foam. 

Here,  as  a fount  may  keep  its  virtue 
While  all  the  rivers  turbid  run. 

The  manly  growth  of  deed  and  daring 
Was  thine  beneath  a scantier  sun. 

Set  far  apart,  neglected,  exiled. 

Thy  children  wrote  their  runes  of  pride, 

With  power  that  brings,  in  this  thy  triumph, 

The  conquering  nations  to  thy  side. 

What  though  thy  native  harps  be  silent, 

The  chord  they  struck  shall  ours  prolong : 

We  claim  thee  kindred,  call  the  mother, 

O land  of  saga,  steel,  and  song  ! 

Our  friend  Magnusson  immediately  took  this  greet- 
ing ashore,  where  it  was  translated  into  Icelandic  by 


THE  MILLENNIAL  CELEB R A TLON.  223 


Mathias  Jochumsson,  the  poet,  who  has  given  Shake- 
speare’s Lear  and  Macbeth  admirably  in  Icelandic. 
I quote  the  first  stanza  of  his  translation,  as  a speci- 
men of  the  language.  The  italicized  th  is  soft,  as  in 
then  : 


Her  koma  born  thins  bjarta  Vinlands, 

Sem  byggjum  yngstu  heimsins  grand, 

Thvt  rettland  kappa,  songs  og  sijgu, 

A th  signa  thig  a fraegA&arstund  ! 

Now,  when  all  other  greetings  had  apparently  come 
to  an  end,  Magnusson  took  the  stand,  and  in  an  elo- 
quent speech  referred  to  the  presence  of  the  American 
party.  This  drew  all  eyes  upon  us,  and  was  rather 
embarrassing,  although  inevitable ; but  the  interest 
and  good-will  of  the  people  were  clearly  evident. 
When  the  address  was  finished,  the  Mayor  of  Rejkia- 

vik,  Sveinbjbrnson,  announced  that  the  Skald,  T , 

of  America,  would  reply.  All  the  aforesaid  “ Skald” 
was  able  to  do  was  to  state,  in  most  imperfect  Danish, 
that  he  was  not  sufficiently  master  of  the  language  to 
express  fully  the  feelings  of  himself  and  friends;  he 
could  only  assure  the  people  of  Iceland  that  we  thanked 
them,  with  all  our  hearts,  for  their  recognition  of  our 
fatherland,  and  then  closed  with  “ Hail  to  Iceland  and 
the  whole  Norse  race  ! ’’—which  the  people  received 
with  hearty  cheers,  the  King  leading. 

Soon  afterwards  the  dances  began  ; but  as  the  na- 
tional dance — if  there  ever  was  any — is  now  lost,  and 
waltz,  polka,  and  quadrille  prevail  here  as  elsewhere, 
there  was  nothing  picturesque  in  the  spectacle.  Our 


224 


ICELAND. 


Rejkiavik  acquaintances  were  all  there,  and  the  ladies, 
especially,  were  very  lively  and  communicative  ; only 
the  sharp  wind  from  Greenland’s  icy  mountains, 
which  blew  without  ceasing,  chilled  our  very  marrow. 
Before  the  “ great  flying  fires  ” were  let  off,  we  found 
it  prudent  to  return  to  the  landing-place  and  signal 
our  steamer’s  boat. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  RIDE  TO  THINGVALLA. 

Camp  at  the  Geysers,  August  5. 

IT  was  rather  unfortunate  that  our  plan  of  travel 
coincided  so  nearly  with  that  of  the  King’s  party  as 
to  oblige  us  to  make  the  same  day’s  journeys,  and  en- 
camp at  the  same  places,  but,  as  we  desired  to  see 
both  the  Geysers  and  the  National  Festival  at  Thing- 
valla,  there  was  no  help  for  it.  On  Sunday  evening, 
at  Rejkiavik,  everybody  went  out  to  listen,  see,  sing  or 
dance  at  Austurvelli;  the  ponies  destined  for  us  were 
grazing  on  some  distant  pasturage;  and  Zoega,  who 
had  undertaken  to  get  us  off  at  eight  o’clock  in  the 
morning  and  then  do  the  same  thing  for  the  Royal 
expedition  at  one  in  the  afternoon,  groaned  under  the 
burden  of  his  anxiety.  All  went  well,  however.  The 
boxes  with  canned  provisions  had  been  packed  on 
shipboard,  under  the  supervision  of  two  guides,  and 
were  already  adjusted  to  the  carrying  power  of  the 
horses:  the  tent  and  other  equipments  were  also  in 
readiness,  and  only  a saddle  here,  a strap  there,  with 
an  extra  loose  pony  or  two,  were  wanting  when  we 
landed.  It  rained  by  fits,  in  a cheerless  way,  though 
a group  of  natives,  gathered  to  see  us  off,  made 
nothing  of  it.  Zoega’s  bright  little  daughter,  to  whom 


226 


ICELAND. 


he  had  taught  English  during  the  long  Winters,  flitted 
about  and  made  her  first  essays  as  interpreter,  our  en- 
ergetic leader  blew  his  whip-whistle  from  time  to  time, 
and  so  the  caravan  finally  grew  into  order. 

We  trotted  out  of  Rejkiavik,  a company  of  twelve 
men  and  thirty  ponies.  There  were,  first,  the  seven 
members  of  our  party;  the  steamer’s  cook  and  second 
steward,  detailed  by  Captain  Howling  for  our  service  ; 
and  three  Icelanders — Geir,  Zoega’s  nephew,  a dark- 
eyed, intelligent  youth  of  seventeen;  Eyvindur,  a man 
of  thirty,  whose  curling  brown  hair  and  dashing  horse- 
manship gave  him  almost  a Mexican  air;  and  the 
blond,  blue-eyed,  ever-laughing  Jon,  whose  genial 
temper  no  worries  or  fatigues  could  ever  touch.  The 
sturdy  ponies,  white,  dun,  or  piebald  in  color,  with 
immense  manes  and  tails,  had  each  and  all  an  expres- 
sion of  great  docility  and  intelligence.  I pretended  to 
whisper  a charm  into  the  ear  of  mine  before  mount- 
ing, and  the  animal  actually  leaned  his  head  toward 
me,  listened,  and  seemed  to  make  an  effort  to  under- 
stand. 

Before  we  passed  the  mound  of  Austurvelli,  the 
clouds  broke  away,  the  broad  mountains  beyond  the 
fiord  shown  out  in  gleams  of  transparent  color,  and 
we  were  cheered  by  the  promise  of  a fine  day.  Driv- 
ing the  seven  laden  and  the  twelve  loose  ponies  before 
us,  we  trotted  along  the  stony  promontory  of  Rejkia- 
vik for  about  four  miles,  when  the  appearance — or 
promise — of  a highway  came  to  an  end,  and  was  re- 
placed by  half  a dozen  well-beaten  bridle  paths.  Be- 
low us,  in  a bare  valley,  flashed  the  Laxa,  or  Salmon 


THE  RIDE  TO  THING  VA  LLA . 


227 


River,  which  I found  to  be  very  rapid  and  icy  cold 
when  we  forded  it.  A little  beyond  we  passed  the 
first  farm-house,  a group  of  five  attached  buildings, 
surrounded  by  a square  of  heavy  earthen  ramparts. 
This  last  feature,  designed  only  to  keep  and  shelter 
the  cattle,  gives  each  beet  (pronounced  byre,  like  the 
equivalent  Scotch  word),  the  appearance  of  a little 
fortress.  A very  small  garden  of  potatoes,  turnips 
and  cabbages,  and  a field  or  two  of  carefully  kept 
grass-land  for  hay,  constitute  an  Icelandic  farm  : all 
else  is  open  pasture-range,  with  or  without  much  veg- 
etation, according  to  the  age  of  the  lava. 

It  was  eight  or  ten  miles  through  a region  of  stony 
hills  before  we  reached  the  second  and  third  farms, 
beyond  which  there  was  no  sign  of  human  habitation 
during  the  remainder  of  the  day’s  journey.  Wherever 
the  disintegrated  rock  had  been  washed  down  into  the 
hollows,  grass  was  growing  ; but  the  heights  and 
ridges  nourished  little  beside  thyme,  saxifrage,  and 
other  low,  starved-looking  Arctic  plants.  My  relief, 
in  the  midst  of  this  desolation,  was  in  looking  abroad 
to  the  grand,  lofty  ranges  of  mountains,  north,  south, 
and  ahead  of  us.  The  intense  clearness  of  the  air,  as 
in  Colorado  and  Ecuador  diminished  their  apparent 
distance,  while  the  softness  and  purity  of  their  tints 
revealed  it  to  an  experienced  eye.  In  form  they  were 
often  extremely  beautiful,  the  abrupt  outlines  pro- 
duced by  volcanic  upheaval  alternating  with  long, 
level  ridges,  like  those  of  the  old  Alleghanies.  Grass 
nowhere  seemed  to  grow  above  a height  of  about  one 
thousand  feet,  after  which  the  soil  showed  a coating 


228 


ICELAND. 


of  silvery  moss.  I have  seen  landscapes  of  the  same 
bare,  bleak  character  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  but 
none  that  so  repelled  the  efforts  of  human  life  to 
plant  itself  there. 

Our  ponies  knew  perfectly  well  what  was  required 
of  them,  and  we  had  no  trouble  beyond  the  shifting 
of  unevenly  balanced  packs.  The  loose  animals 
sometimes  strayed  aside,  but  a dash  of  Eyvindur  and 
a shout  of  “ Ho  ! ho  ! ” generally  recalled  them  to  the 
track.  We  climbed  a ridge  whence  there  was  a back- 
ward glimpse  of  the  harbor  of  Rejkiavik,  with  a new 
steamer  entering.  This  could  be  none  other  than  the 
Wicklow,  chartered  by  a party  of  English  tourists, 
and  due  in  Iceland  before  the  Sunday  celebration. 
Pushing  forward,  we  passed  two  cold  lakes,  another 
windy  height,  and  then  descended  into  Soljedal,  a 
lovely,  grassy  valley,  threaded  by  a winding  stream. 
This  is  the  usual  halting-place  between  Rejkiavik  and 
Thin  gvalla,  because  it  is  nearly  half  way,  and  it  is 
the  only  spot  where  the  ponies  can  graze.  We  had 
now  been  four  hours  in  the  saddle,  our  legs  were 
chilled  from  splashing  through  the  icy  streams,  and 
rest  and  refreshment  were  never  welcomer.  Dis- 
mounting, we  threw  our  bridle-reins  upon  the  grass. 
This  is  a sign  to  the  pony  that  he  will  be  wanted 
anon,  and  consequently  he  does  not  wander  far  away; 
if  the  reins  are  left  upon  his  neck  he  considers  him- 
self free  to  scamper  at  will.  We  all  lunched  together 
on  the  meadow,  Jon,  Eyvindur,  and  Geir  coming  up 
like  free  men  to  take  their  share  with  us.  Here,  in 
Iceland,  the  old  Gothic  sense  of  equality  manifests 


THE  RIDE  TO  THINGVALLA. 


229 


itself  just  as  in  Spain,  and  the  stranger  who  respects 
it  will  rarely  have  cause  to  complain  of  the  people. 
It  is  strange  how  the  two  furthest  branches  of  one 
original  race  have  retained  so  many  of  the  same  prim- 
itive characteristics. 

The  afternoon’s  ride  was  monotonous  and  weary. 
We  rose  out  of  Soljedal,  skirted  an  isolated  mountain, 
and  issued  upon  a broad,  dreary  upland,  where  our 
course  was  marked,  far  in  advance,  by  high  cairns  of 
stone,  erected  to  guide  the  traveller  during  the  snows 
of  Winter.  Plover  and  curlew  piped  their  melancholy 
notes  from  the  damp  hollows  sprinkled  here  and  there, 
and  presently  Dr.  Hayes  and  Mr.  Gladstone  yielded 
to  the  temptation,  took  their  guns  and  rode  away 
from  the  path.  We  soon  lost  sight  of  them,  but  took 
the  precaution  to  leave  Geir  behind  as  a guide.  Grad- 
ually ascending,  we  came  upon  a divide  whence  the 
Faxa  Fiord  was  visible  in  the  rear  and  a distant  sheet 
of  blue  water  in  front.  The  latter  could  be  none 
other  than  the  Thingvalla  lake  ; and  away  beyond  it, 
to  the  north-east,  another  valley  opened  into  the  heart 
of  Iceland.  New  mountains  appeared  ; the  landscape 
increased  in  breadth  and  sublimity,  and  we  urged  our 
ponies  forward,  confident  of  soon  reaching  our  desti- 
nation. But  it  was  a vain  hope : the  country  fell  in 
broad,  barren  terraces,  each  of  which  concealed  the 
succeeding  one  from  view,  so  that  we  seemed  to  be 
approaching  a brink  which  continually  receded.  The 
lake  broadened,  the  mountains  grew  higher,  the  sun 
sank  lower  behind  us,  and  still  we  rode  on.  At  last, 
the  foremost  ponies  disappeared,  as  if  the  earth  had 


230 


ICELAND. 


swallowed  them  up  ; there  was  a low  stony  bridge  in 
front,  which  we  had  scarcely  heeded.  A few  paces 
more,  and  we  looked  down  into  the  Allmannagja. 

The  plateau  terminates  in  a sheer  volcanic  rampart, 
one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  in  height,  but  split  into 
such  strange,  weird,  toppling  masses  that  it  is  difficult 
to  make  a picture  of  the  scene.  There  is  a diagonal 
cleft  which  furnishes  the  only  descent  to  Thingvalla, 
and  this  is  called  the  Allmannagja,  or  “ Chasm  of  the 
People.”  Under  us  lay  the  valley,  only  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  in  breadth,  green,  peaceful,  watered 
by  a bright  river,  and  hemmed  in  beyond  by  the  shat- 
tered sides  of  an  enormous  lava-field.  Southward,  to- 
ward the  lake,  stood  a little  black  church  upon  a 
mound,  and  an  encampment  of  tents  in  front  of  it  de- 
noted the  King’s  resting-place  for  the  night.  We 
descended  the  cleft,  which  is  not  so  grand  in  propor- 
tion as  it  is  uncanny  and  devilish  in  aspect.  The 
black  rocks  seem  to  sway  and  grin  and  threaten  when 
you  look  up  to  them,  like  those  in  Faust’s  “ Walpur- 
gis-Night.” Eyvindur  shouted,  but  there  wras  not 
much  of  an  echo.  In  less  time  than  I anticipated  we 
were  at  the  foot.  A rain  was  rapidly  coming  up,  so 
we  rode  past  the  church  to  the  parson’s  turf-roofed 
byre  behind  it,  and  Magnusson,  who  was  that 
worthy  man’s  friend,  asked  where  we  might  pitch  our 
tent. 

In  the  hay-field  there  was  a rocky  caldron,  filled 
w'ith  water  so  clear  and  cold  that  it  was  rather  liquid 
ice.  The  parson,  in  dress  and  appearance  a farmer, 
approached  me,  and  pointing  to  the  sod,  said : 


231 


THE  RIDE  TO  THING V ALLA. 

“ Planus  est  locus.”  I managed  to  reply:  “'Planus 
et  bonus,  Dotnine ! ” — but  was  greatly  relieved  that 
our  classical  conversation  proceeded  no  further.  The 
King’s  scarlet-coated  lackeys  were  cooking  in  a corner 
of  the  stone  wall,  there  were  glimpses  of  porcelain 
and  silver  in  open  chests,  and  we  dared  not  keep  the 
good  parson  from  his  rarer  and  higher  duty.  All  gave 
their  hands  to  the  work  of  pitching  the  tent,  for  the 
rain  was  by  this  time  fast  and  steady.  The  cook  dis- 
covered a natural  fire-place  among  the  rocks,  the  sod 
was  covered  with  rubber  cloth,  our  chests  were  opened, 
and  the  gleam  of  our  tin  could  not  be  distinguished, 
in  the  twilight,  from  that  of  the  Royal  silver. 

It  was  a confused,  and — to  be  candid  not  a very  com- 
fortable bivouac  that  night.  The  sportsmen  came  in 
an  hour  later,  with  seventeen  plover,  the  Royal  party 
arrived  about  the  same  time,  and  a mixed  Danish, 
Russian  and  Hungarian  company  who  lodged  in 
the  church  paid  us  visits  of  curiosity  ; but  all  was 
wet  outside  of  our  tent,  and  all  was  weariness  within. 
Good  store  of  blankets  kept  us  from  suffering  with 
cold,  but  I imagine  none  of  us  slept  very  soundly. 
Most  of  our  party  visited  the  famous  “ Hill  of  the 
Law,”  and  had  much  to  say  of  its  grand,  gloomy,  and 
peculiar  character  ; but  I thought  it  would  keep  until 
our  return  from  the  Geysers.  In  the  morning  the  sky 
promised  better  weather.  There  had  been  no  dark- 
ness in  our  tent  the  whole  night,  and  when  we  turned 
out  at  four  o’clock  it  seemed  to  be  eight.  The  king 
strode  away  with  his  gun,  but  brought  nothing  back. 
I saw  him  afterward,  in  the  lane  before  the  chuich, 


232 


ICELAND. 


shaking  hands  with  the  people  over  the  top  of  a stone 
wall.  As  we  rode  past  the  camp  on  leaving,  he  was 
breakfasting  in  the  open  air,  and  replied  to  our  salu- 
tations with  a piece  of  bread  and  meat  in  one  hand. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


FROM  THINGVALLA  TO  THE  GEYSERS. 

Camp  at  the  Geysers,  August  5. 


E left  our  friend  Magniisson  and  several  pro- 


vision chests  at  Thingvalla,  and  set  off  early  for 
the  Geysers,  in  order  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the 
greater  and  more  important  caravan.  The  wonderful 
plover-stew  which  an  Arctic  explorer  and  a Cincinnati 
editor  had  employed  two  zealous  hours  in  producing, 
had  recruited  our  strength  ; we  were  not  yet  so  damp 
as  to  be  disagreeable,  and  so  commenced  the  ride  of 
forty-five  miles  in  cheerful  spirits.  A mile  up  the  val- 
ley, after  passing  a little  farm  called  Skyrcot,  we  struck 
to  the  eastward  into  a hraun , or  lava-field,  torn  and 
convulsed  beyond  anything  we  had  previously  seen. 
In  the  holes  and  gaps  where  soil  had  gradually  accu- 
mulated there  grew  stunted  willows  and  birches, 
rarely  more  than  three  or  four  feet  in  height.  This  is 
called  the  Thingvalla  Forest!  It  apparently  covers 
eight  or  ten  square  miles,  and  miserable  as  it  seems, 
is  able  to  supply  the  few  farms  in  the  neighborhood 
with  sufficient  fuel. 

It  is  a question  whether  Iceland  was  ever  wooded,  as 
some  of  the  sagas  indicate.  No  large  tree  trunks  have 
been  found  in  the  peat-beds,  and  there  are  no  local 
traditions  of  woodland.  I am  convinced  that  the  har- 
dier trees,  such  as  birch,  Scotch  fir,  mountain  ash,  and 


234 


ICELAND. 


alder,  might  be  raised  in  sheltered  places,  with  a little 
care.  Yet  almost  the  only  tree  in  Iceland  is  a moun- 
tain ash,  about  twenty'-five  feet  high,  at  Akureyri,  on 
the  north  coast.  Neither  temperature  nor  the  prevail- 
ing winds  are  sufficient  to  prevent  the  growth  of  tim- 
ber: it  is  more  probable  that  the  people  never  seri- 
ously thought  of  trying  the  experiment. 

The  lava-field  was  at  least  five  miles  in  breadth, 
sloping  southward  from  a group  of  dark,  scorched 
mountains,  whence  the  eruption  had  evidently  flowed. 
The  sides  of  a long  ridge  in  front  were  marked  with 
distinct  fissures,  many  miles  in  length,  showing  how 
enormous  must  have  been  the  mass  thrown  out.  The 
regularly  curved  mountain  of  Breithi-Skiold  (Broad 
Shield),  streaked  with  snow,  closed  the  northern  vista 
of  the  valley.  The  first  fissure  we  reached  is  called  the 
Hrafnagja , or  Raven’s  Cleft;  it  is  about  one  hundred 
feet  deep,  and  astonishingly  jagged  and  distorted.  A 
natural  bridge,  formed  by  the  falling  together  of  the 
edges,  leads  across  it,  after  which  a further  climb  of  a 
quarter  of  a mile  brought  us  to  the  level  of  an  upper 
hraun,  wilder  and  more  desolate  than  that  of  Thing- 
valla. 

This  was  apparently  the  outflow  of  a later  eruption 
than  that  which  produced  the  former  lava-field ; for  the 
great  coils  and  twisted  streaks  of  the  hardened  flood 
lay  bare  all  over  the  surface,  vent-holes  for  the  last  escap- 
ing gas  riddled  it  like  a colander,  and  the  only  vege- 
tation still  lurked  in  sheltered  ruts  and  holes.  I saw 
one  depression,  the  size  and  shape  of  a half-barrel, 
which  was  filled  with  the  most  beautiful  geraniums. 


FROM  THINGVALLA  TO  THE  GEYSERS.  235 


Our  caravan  had  already  fallen  into  an  orderly  man- 
ner of  travel.  Eyvindur  and  Jon  rode  ahead,  taking 
charge  of  the  baggage  and  loose  ponies.  While  the 
latter  kept  to  the  track  the  guides  sang  melancholy 
native  songs,  or  passed  the  horn  of  snuff  from  one 
nose  to  another.  This  implement,  like  an  old-fash- 
ioned powder  horn,  has  a neck  which  holds  the  proper 
charge:  the  man  throws  his  head  back  with  a sudden 
jerk,  applies  the  horn  to  his  nostril,  and  receives  the 
contents.  The  process  is  repeated  at  least  a dozen 
times  a day,  and  the  result  is  an  upper  lip  which  only 
the  most  reckless  passion  could  tolerate  as  the  agent 
of  a kiss. 

The  boy  Geir  rode  beside  me,  eager  to  learn  some- 
thing more  of  a world  he  had  never  seen.  When 
puzzled  to  understand  some  English  word,  or  at  a loss 
to  find  the  one  he  wanted,  he  would  generally  ask  . 
“ What  is  it  in  Latin?”  Presently  he  surprised  me 
by  the  question,  “What  do  you  think  of  Byron  as  a 
poet  ? ” “ He  is  one  of  the  very  first  in  modern  Eng- 

lish literature,”  I answered.  “ Is  not  the  Song  of  the 
Spirits,  in  Manfred,  considered  very  fine  ? ” Geir  asked 
again.  “ I like  it  very  much.” 

Happening  to  mention  German,  the  boy  began  to 
talk  the  language,  with  about  as  much  fluency  as 
English.  He  had  read  Schiller’s  ballads  and  The  Rob- 
bers, which  latter  seemed  to  have  made  a great  im- 
pression upon  his  mind  ; but  he  was  most  desirous  to 
hear  something  of  the  works  with  which  he  was  still 
unacquainted.  “I  have  heard  that  Goethe’s  Faust  is 
very  difficult  to  understand,”  he  said;  “so  I have  not 


236 


ICELAND. 


yet  tried  to  read  it,  but  I hope  to  be  able  in  a year  or 
two  more.  Shakka-spey-arr  ” — so  he  pronounced  the 
name  once,  but  as  soon  as  I corrected  him,  always 
properly  afterwards — “ Shakespeare  is  also  difficult, 
but  I have  read  King  Lear,  and  mean  to  read  all  the 
other  plays.  Is  Faust  anything  like  Shakespeare  in 
style  ? ” And  this  was  a poor,  fatherless  boy  of  sev- 
enteen, with  only  an  Icelandic  education  ! Modest, 
sweet-tempered,  warm  with  a tireless  eagerness  for 
knowledge,  not  one  of  our  party  could  help  loving 
Geir,  and  feeling  the  sincerest  interest  in  his  fortunes. 

In  spite  of  the  tremendous  desolation  of  the  scenery, 
it  was  far  more  varied  and  grand  than  that  between 
Rejkiavik  and  Thingvalla.  The  sky  cleared  as  we 
reached  the  farther  end  of  the  lava  field,  at  the  corner 
of  a mossy  mountain  with  a bare  black  summit,  where 
the  path  descended  through  a rocky  ravine  to  a stretch 
of  green  meadow  land  below.  Far  to  the  east,  fifty  or 
sixty  miles  away,  the  horizon  was  bounded  by  a long 
line  of  snow-topped  mountains.  “ Hekla ! ” cried 
Evindur,  pointing  to  a broad,  humpy  mass  of  snow 
which  rose  considerably  above  the  general  level.  The 
summit  was  still  hidden,  but  the  mantle  {heklu  means 
“a  mantle”  in  Icelandic),  of  snow  was  so  unbroken 
and  extended  so  far  down  the  sides  that  the  perfect 
quiet  of  the  volcano  was  manifest.  There  has  been 
no  eruption  since  1845. 

While  the  guides  rearranged  some  shifted  packs  on 
the  meadow  we  rode  to  a cave  at  the  base  of  the 
mountains.  Over  it  there  was  an  abrupt  wall  of 
porphyritic  rock,  in  which  we  could  see  sparkling 


FROM  THING V A LLA  TO  THE  GEYSERS.  237 


veins  of  obsidian.  The  peaks  beyond — apparently 
extinct  volcanic  cones — showed  the  most  extraordinary 
forms,  and  were  almost  as  black  as  coal.  We  all  no- 
ticed a resemblance  to  Dore’s  illustrations  of  Dante, 
except  that  here  there  was  a far  wilder  and  gloomier 
originality.  The  cave,  which  was  low-roofed,  rough, 
wet,  and  altogether  disagreeable,  had  been  used  as  a 
sheepfold  for  ages.  Many  unknown  individuals,  shep- 
herds, or  passing  travellers,  had  laboriously  carved 
their  initials  about  the  entrance.  In  one  place  we 
found  (or  fancied)  the  date  of  1396,  but,  with  the 
best  will  in  the  world,  I could  discover  no  Runic  char- 
acters. 

Beyond  the  valley,  the  path  struck  across  a high, 
hilly  region  towards  another  mountain-cape,  about 
eight  miles  distant.  Here,  however,  many  thousands 
of  years  have  crumbled  the  lava,  and  the  red,  mellow 
volcanic  soil,  a foot  or  two  deep,  was  well  covered 
with  grass,  herbs,  and  heather.  The  piping  of  plover 
and  curlew  seduced  our  two  sportsmen  from  the 
track,  while  we  kept  on,  enjoying  the  gleams  of  sun- 
shine and  comparative  warmth.  The  thermometer 
would  have  shown  a temperature  of  from  6o°  to  65° ; 
during  the  nights  it  felt  to  48°. 

As  we  approached  the  mountain,  the  eastern  range, 
including  Hekla,  which  had  been  hidden  for  two 
hours,  again  came  into  view,  and  this  lime  free  from 
cloud.  “We  don’t  often  see  Hekla  so  clear  as  he  is 
now,”  said  the  guide.  It  was  a lonely  but  a surpris- 
ingly peaceful  and  pastoral  landscape.  From  the 
height  where  we  rode  we  overlooked  a grassy  plain, 


238 


ICELAND. 


some  twenty  miles  in  breadth,  sparkling  here  and 
there  with  little  lakes  or  the  winding  courses  of  rivers. 
Beyond  it  were  low,  softly  undulating  hills,  over  which 
Hekla  towered — or  rather  heaved — broad,  heavy  in 
outline,  and  only  beautiful  because  the  sun  made  a 
golden  gleam  of  its  snow.  Toward  the  sea  some  blue 
scattered  peaks  rose  like  islands;  far  to  the  north, 
where  the  great  plain  came  down  from  the  very  heart 
of  Iceland,  there  were  glimpses  of  remoter  snows  and 
glaciers.  But  out  of  the  green  level,  fifteen  miles 
away,  there  suddenly  shot  a silvery  column  of  steam, 
at  least  a hundred  feet  in  height.  “ The  Geysers  ! ” 
some  one  cried;  but  no  ! it  was  a great  boiling  spring, 
or  caldron, 'Eyvindur  said,  which  never  sends  up  jets 
of  water.  It  was  the  only  thing  in  the  vast  view  which 
resembled  a sign  of  human  life — and  was  really  a men- 
ace against  life. 

We  were  to  have  made  our  halt  at  a farm  called 
Laegr, where  a flag  was  put  up  in  honor  of  the  King’s 
passing;  but  the  guides  declared  that  rinderpest  or 
epizooty  had  just  broken  out  there,  and  we  must  go 
further.  After  fording  some  swift,  icy  streams  in  the 
valley  beyond,  we  stopped  near  a church  and  two  farm- 
steads, and  enjoyed  a most  welcome  rest  of  an  hour. 
There  were,  as  yet,  no  signs  of  the  Royal  caravan. 

The  route,  during  the  afternoon,  followed  the  bases 
of  the  mountains  which  inclose  the  great  valley  where- 
in the  Geysers  lie  on  the  west.  It  keeps  above  the 
meadows  as  much  as  possible,  to  avoid  the  marshy 
soil.  We  encountered  but  one  large  stream,  which 
came  thundering  down  through  the  lower  hills,  be- 


FROM  THIN GV ALLA  TO  THE  GEYSERS.  239 


tween  dark  piles  of  rocks.  The  road  reaches  it  at  a 
volcanic  chasm,  split  directly  up  the  middle  of  its  bed, 
the  water  on  each  side  falling  fifteen  feet.  This  is 
crossed  by  a little  wooden  bridge,  to  reach  which  the 
ponies  must  first  stem  the  furious  current.  It  looks 
hazardous,  but  the  beasts  are  so  sure-footed  that  the 
passage  is  perfectly  safe.  Just  below  the  cataract  there 
are  two  of  the  most  perfect  natural  abutments  that 
ever  were  seen,  and  a span  of  thirty  feet  would  con- 
nect them.  The  stream  is  called  Brygga — the  Bridge 
River — for  it  is  probably  the  only  stream  in  Iceland 
so  distinguished. 

It  was  seven  o’clock;  the  pale,  level  light  slowly  rose 
on  the  eastern  mountains,  and  we  were  getting  to  be 
wretchedly  weary,  when  another  mountain  corner  was 
turned,  and  over  the  plain,  at  the  foot  of  a dark,  iso- 
lated hill,  about  five  miles  off,  rose  a dozen  tall  col- 
umns of  steam.  The  Geysers,  at  last ! “ It  is  spout- 
ing ! ” cried  JOn,  as  one  jet  shot  higher  than  the 
others.  Messrs.  Field  and  Halstead  pushed  on  at  a 
gallop  ; I preferred  keeping  with  the  baggage,  and 
soon  noticed  that  the  appearance  was  steam  and  not 
water.  But  presently  Eyvindur  came,  proposing  that 
I should  ride  forward  with  him.  My  pony  that  after- 
noon, although  the  smallest  of  the  whole  lot,  was  a 
most  restive,  mettlesome  creature ; a word  and  a 
touch  sent  him  off  like  a bolt.  We  galloped  a couple 
of  miles,  reached  and  passed  the  two  leaders,  and 
should  have  been  first  at  the  ‘‘meet,”  had  not  the 
path  struck  into  the  meadows.  Here  the  tracks  were 
worn  deeply  into  the  soil,  and  my  feet  struck  the  turf 


240 


ICELAND. 


on  each  side  as  the  pony  galloped.  It  was  no  less 
hazardous  than  disagreeable ; but  the  stubborn  ani- 
mal, after  trying  to  resist  the  rein,  suddenly  threw 
himself  on  his  haunches.  As  I had  not  dared  to  rely 
much  upon  the  stirrups  I was  flung  over  his  head,  and 
came  down  with  that  sort  of  a shock  which  is  violent 
in  proportion  to  one’s  weight.  But  neither  the  pony’s 
native  goodness  nor  his  intelligence  failed  him.  I saw 
a hoof  almost  over  my  face,  coming  down  ; but,  quick 
as  lightning,  he  sharply  bent  his  knee,  threw  the  foot 
backward  with  all  his  force,  and  brought  it  upon  the 
turf  beside  me.  Then  he  quietly  waited  for  me  to 
rise  and  mount ; but  Eyvindur  insisted  that  I should 
take  his  taller  animal. 

There  is  a byre , or  farmstead,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill ; 
the  hot  springs  lie  just  beyond,  along  the  eastern  base, 
and  not  much  above  the  level  of  the  plain.  A space 
four  hundred  yards  in  length  by  one  hundred  in 
breadth  includes  the  two  Geysers,  the  Strokr,  and 
about  twenty  smaller  springs.  We  rode  between  the 
latter,  which  were  simply  boiling  and  roaring  from 
holes  in  a bed  of  silicious  rock.  Beyond  them  came 
the  Strokr,  a larger  and  more  furious  pit,  then  a patch 
of  green  turf,  on  which  the  tents  were  already  pitched 
for  the  Royal  party,  and  beyond  it  a low,  crater-like 
elevation,  half-veiled  in  steam,  which  I was  rather  re- 
luctant to  recognize  as  the  Great  Geyser.  But  there 
was  no  other  caldron  beyond  it ; half  a dozen  men 
were  standing  about  the  brim — yet  it  looked  so  natu- 
ral and  harmless ! 

Some  of  the  King’s  attendants,  while  advising  us 


FROM  THING VA LL.4  TO  THE  GEYSERS.  241 


where  to  encamp,  stated  that  the  Geyser  had  spouted 
once  that  morning  and  twice  the  day  before.  This 
was  unwelcome  news,  for  the  guides  had  already  told 
us  how  capricious  it  could  be,  sometimes  going  off  sev- 
eral times  in  quick  succession,  and  then  remaining  sul- 
lenly quiet  for  a week.  There  was  no  time  to  think 
of  that  now;  our  baggage  arrived,  and  after  eleven 
hours  in  the  saddle,  we  sighed  only  for  rest  and  food. 
The  tent  was  pitched  on  a turfy  slope  near  the  highest 
boiling  spring  (which  is  close  beside  the  Great  Geyser, 
but  seems  to  have  no  connection  with  it),  and  Geir 
was  sent  to  a village  three  miles  off  to  procure  us  fuel, 
hay  for  bedding,  and  fresh  milk.  At  my  suggestion 
the  cook  placed  some  canned  meats  in  the  spring, 
which  prepared  them  for  use  in  a very  short  space  of 
time.  Half  an  hour  later  the  King  arrived,  and  the 
whole  place  became,  to  the  eye,  a sort  of  holiday  pic- 
nic ground,  where  the  steaming  pillars  suggested  only 
cooking. 


16 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WAITING  FOR  THE  GREAT  GEYSER  TO  SPOUT. 

Thingvalla,  August  7. 

T SLEPT  soundly  the  night  after  our  arrival  at  the 
Geysers,  but  some  members  of  our  party  were 
excited  and  restless.  Toward  morning,  there  were 
several  mysterious  underground  thumps,  which  sent 
them  posting  to  the  Great  Geyser’s  brim  ; but  only 
denser  steam  and  a heavier  overflow  of  water  followed. 
The  scene  in  the  morning  was  curious.  We  took  our 
toilet  articles,  and  went,  half-dressed,  to  the  hollow  be- 
tween the  Geyser  and  the  spring,  where  the  surplus 
overthrow  is  shallow  and  lukewarm.  It  was  already 
occupied  ; a royal  chamberlain  was  scooping  up  water 
in  his  hands,  an  admiral  was  dipping  his  tooth-brush 
into  the  stream,  a Copenhagen  professor  was  labori- 
ously shaving  himself  by  the  aid  of  a looking-glass 
stuck  in  a crack  of  the  crater,  and  the  King,  neat 
and  fresh  as  if  at  home,  stood  on  the  bank  and  amused 
himself  with  the  sight.  The  quality  of  the  water  is 
exquisite  ; it  is  like  down  and  velvet  to  the  skin,  soap 
becomes  a finer  substance  in  it,  and  the  refreshment 
given  to  the  hands  and  face  seems  to  permeate  the 
whole  body.  If  one  could  only  have  a complete  bath  ! 
A day’s  labor  w'ould  make  a pool  sufficient  therefor, 
yet  the  idea  has  never  occurred  to  a single  soul,  native 
or  foreign  ! 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREAT  GEYSER.  243 


I did  not  dare  to  venture  a quarter  of  a mile  away 
from  the  Geyser,  during  the  whole  day.  We  all  fell 
into  a condition  of  nervous  expectancy  which  could  not 
be  escaped,  comical  as  were  some  of  its  features. 
There  was  a pile  of  turf — perhaps  a cart-load — beside 
the  Strokr,  which  lay  just  below  our  tent,  and  we  were 
told  that  the  caldron  would  be  compelled  to  spout 
for  the  King,  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  breakfast; 
so  we  sat  down  contented  to  the  second  plover-stew 
which  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Dr.  Hayes  had  provided  for 
us.  The  farmer  from  whom  we  had  procured  fuel 
sent  us  several  bottles  of  delicious  cream,  and  a large 
salmon  for  dinner. 

The  Strokr  is  a pit  about  five  feet  in  diameter,  and 
eight  feet  deep  to  the  ordinary  level  of  the  water, 
which  is  always  in  a furious,  boiling  state.  Prof. 
Steenstrup  assured  me  that  it  is  not  connected  with 
the  Great  Geyser,  as  the  analysis  of  the  water  shows  a 
difference;  but  the  people  are  equally  convinced  that 
it  is,  and  that  to  provoke  its  activity  diminishes  the 
chances  of  the  former  spouting.  However  this  may 
be,  the  royal  command  was  given.  The  pile  of  turf 
was  pitched  into  the  hole,  and  all  gathered  around,  at 
a safe  distance,  waiting  to  see  what  would  follow. 

For  ten  minutes  we  noticed  nothing  except  a dimi- 
nution of  steam  : then  the  water  gushed  up  to  the  level 
of  the  soil,  in  a state  of  violent  agitation  ; subsided, 
rose  again,  spouted  the  full  breadth  of  the  hole  to  a 
height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  sank  back,  and  finally, 
after  another  moment  of  quiet,  shot  a hundred  feet 
into  the  air.  The  boiled  turf,  reduced  to  the  consist- 


244 


ICELAND. 


ency  of  gravel,  filled  the  jet,  and  darkened  its  central 
shaft,  but  I did  not  find  that  it  diminished  the  beauty 
of  the  phenomenon.  Jet  after  jet  followed,  sending 
long  plume-like  tufts  from  the  summit  and  sides  of  the 
main  column,  around  which  the  snowy  drifts  of  steam 
whirled  and  eddied  with  a grace  so  swift  that  the  eye 
could  scarcely  seize  it.  At  such  moments  the  base 
was  hidden,  and  the  form  of  the  fountain  was  like  a 
bunch  of  the  Pampas  grass  in  blossom— a cluster  of 
feathery  panicles  of  spray. 

The  performance  lasted  nearly  ten  minutes,  and 
was  resumed  again  two  or  three  times  after  it  seemed 
to  have  ceased.  Two  or  three  of  the  last  spoutings 
were  the  highest,  and  some  estimated  them  at  fully 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  Finally,  the  indignant 
caldron  threw  out  the  last  of  its  unclean  emetic,  and 
sank  to  its  normal  level.  The  King,  who  had  turned 
aside  to  salute  our  company,  was  in  the  act  of  express- 
ing to  me  his  admiration  of  the  scene,  when  the  Little 
Geyser  gave  sudden  signs  of  action.  There  was  a 
rush  of  the  whole  party  ; His  Majesty  turned  and  ran 
like  a boy,  jumping  over  the  gullies  and  stones  with 
an  agility  which  must  have  bewildered  the  heavy  offi- 
cials, who  were  compelled  to  follow  as  they  best  could. 
It  was  a false  alarm.  The  Little  Geyser  let  off  a few 
sharp  discharges  of  steam,  as  if  merely  to  test  the 
pressure,  and  then,  as  if  satisfied,  resumed  its  indo- 
lent, smoky  habit. 

The  cone  of  the  Great  Geyser  is  not  more  than 
twenty  feet  high,  and  appears  to  have  been  gradually 
formed  by  the  deposit  of  the  silicious  particles  which 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREAT  GEYSER.  245 


the  water  holds  in  solution.  The  top  is  like  a shallow 
wash-bowl  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  full  to  the  brim,  and 
slowly  overflowing  on  the  eastern  side.  In  the  centre 
of  this  bowl  there  is  a well,  indicated  by  the  intense 
blue-green  of  the  water,  and  apparently  eight  or  ten 
feet  in  diameter.  It  has  been  sounded,  and  bottom — 
or,  at  least,  a change  of  direction —reached  at  the 
depth  of  eighty-five  feet.  At  the  edge,  where  the 
water  is  shallow,  one  can  dip  his  fingers  in  quickly 
without  being  scalded.  Small  particles  placed  in  the 
overflow  are  completely  incrusted  with  transparent 
silex  in  a day  or  two.  Prof.  Steenstrup  informed  me 
that  the  water  has  important  healing  properties.  The 
steam  has  an  odor  of  sulphuretted  hydrogen,  but  the 
taste  thereof  is  so  soon  lost  that  where  the  stream 
becomes  cold,  we  used  it  for  drinking  and  making 
coffee. 

I shall  never  forget  that  calm,  sublime  day  at  the 
Geysers.  After  reading  many  descriptions,  I was 
never  less  prepared  for  the  reality  of  the  scene.  In- 
stead of  a dreary,  narrow  volcanic  valley,  here  was  a 
landscape  bounded  on  the  west  by  mountains,  but  to 
the  north,  east,  and  south,  only  to  be  spanned  by  a 
radius  of  fifty  miles.  Near  us,  a quiet,  grass-roofed 
farmstead ; toward  the  sea,  meadows  and  gleams  of 
rivers ; in  front,  the  broad  green  plain,  its  inclosing 
hills  and  Hekla  rising  lonely  above  them  ; northward, 
a church  and  neighboring  byres,  a smooth  grassy 
ridge  beyond,  the  snow-streaked  pyramid  of  the  Blaf- 
jall  (Blue  Mountain),  and  far  in  the  distance  the  lumi- 
nous, icy  peaks  of  the  Arna  Jbkull.  From  our  tent 


246 


ICELAND. 


the  noise  of  the  boiling  waters  could  not  be  heard  ; 
the  steam  ascended  quickly,  soon  dissipated  in  the 
light  wind,  and  the  expression  of  the  scene  before  me, 
as  I watched  it  for  hours,  lying  on  the  soft  turf  of  the 
hill-side,  was  one  of  perfect  peace  and  repose. 

At  half-past  one  o’clock,  there  came  a dull  thud, 
felt  rather  than  heard ; then  another,  and  another, 
and  we  all  rushed  towards  the  Great  Geyser.  Before 
any  one  reached  it,  however,  the  noises  ceased  ; the 
water  rose  a foot  or  so,  giving  out  dense  volumes  of 
steam,  but  in  five  minutes  it  became  quiet  as  before. 
The  King  and  his  attendant  officials  strayed  up  the 
hill,  and  there  the  former  devoted  some  time  to  carv- 
ing the  subjoined  rune  upon  one  of  the  rocks: 


1874. 

There  were  various  small  parties  of  the  native  pop- 
ulation at  the  Geysers  during  the  day ; but  fewer 
than  might  have  been  expected,  even  taking  into  ac- 
count the  sparse  settlement  in  this  part  of  Iceland. 
They  were  coarse,  solidly  built  figures,  the  bodies  much 
larger  than  the  legs,  the  hair  thick  and  blond,  and 
the  faces  broad,  weather-beaten,  and  apparently  ex- 
pressionless. I saw  half  a dozen — four  men  and  two 
women — stand  vacantly  grinning  at  the  King  as  he 
passed  them,  and  even  when  he  politely  saluted  them, 
the  men  hesitated,  in  awkward  shyness,  before  they 
even  touched  their  hats.  Another,  to  whom  he  was 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREA  T GE  YSER.  247 

speaking  in  a kindly  manner,  with  his  hand  upon  the 
man’s  shoulder,  suddenly  remembered  that  some 
mark  of  respect  was  necessary,  and  snatched  off  his 
hat  with  as  much  haste  as  if  there  had  been  a hornet 
inside  of  it. 

Among  the  people  were  several  sick  persons,  who 
had  made  long  journeys  in  the  hope  of  finding  a 
physician  in  the  King’s  suite.  Disappointed  in  this, 
they  turned  to  Dr.  Hays  and  our  jovial  Rejkiavik 
friend,  Dr.  Hjaltalin.  The  first  case  was  a man  suf- 
fering from  Bright’s  disease,  for  which,  unfortunately, 
we  had  no  medicines.  But  the  medicine-chest,  when 
it  was  opened,  attracted  our  visitors  with  a singular 
power.  Men  and  women  crowded  around,  gazing 
with  eager  interest  and  (as  it  seemed  to  me)  longing 
upon  the  bottles  of  pills  and  potions.  I offered  a 
quinine  pill  to  a woman,  and  she  instantly  took  and 
chewed  it,  without  ever  asking  a question.  To  con- 
firm a faith  so  profound,  I felt  obliged  to  take  two  of 
the  pills  myself. 

Soon  afterwards  there  came  a married  couple,  the 
mother  carrying  a baby  which,  as  it  needed  but  a 
glance  to  see,  was  almost  dying  of  croup.  They  had 
carried  the  poor  child  on  horseback  for  five  hours,  in 
the  hope  of  finding  relief.  There  was  no  time  to  be 
lost  ; hot  baths  and  poultices  were  ordered  at  the 
byre  near  at  hand,  and  in  the  mean  time  an  opiate 
was  administered.  The  gasping  and  writhing  of  the 
child  was  too  much  for  those  strong  Icelandic  men. 
The  mother  stood  calm  and  firm,  holding  it ; but 
Zoega  ran  away  in  one  direction  and  Eyvindur  in  an- 


248 


ICELAND. 


other,  crying  like  children,  and  the  farmers  turned 
aside  their  heads  to  hide  their  tears. 

At  the  byre  nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of 
the  farmer’s  family, — in  fact,  of  all  who  could  help. 
The  King’s  purveyor  furnished  white  bread  for  a poul- 
tice ; a hot  bath  was  made  ready,  and  the  father  stuffed 
the  child’s  clothes  into  his  bosom  to  keep  them  warm 
for  it.  All  night  the  people  watched  with  it,  and  the 
next  morning  everybody  looked  happy,  on  hearing 
that  its  condition  had  somewhat  improved. 

The  next  case  was  a boy  with  hip  disease,  for  whom 
little  could  be  done,  though  the  Doctor  constructed  a 
temporary  support  for  his  foot.  The  people  invariably 
asked  how  much  they  should  pay,  and  gratefully  shook 
hands  when  payment  was  declined.  I made  an  effort 
to  talk  with  a group  of  farmers,  finding  them  ready 
enough,  only  a little  embarrassed  at  the  start;  but 
when  I asked:  “Do  you  know  Saemund’s  Edda ! ” 

there  was  an  instant  flash  and  flame  in  their  faces, 
and  all  shyness  vanished.  The  Njal  and  Volsunga 
Sagas,  Snorre  Sturlusson,  with  a score  of  obscurer 
Sagas  of  which  I had  never  heard,  were  eagerly  men- 
tioned and  discussed.  It  was  remarkable  to  see  their 
full  knowledge  of  Icelandic  literature,  and  their  vital 
interest  in  it. 

“Do  you  know  who  first  discovered  America?” 
I asked. 

“Yes,  yes!”  they  all  cried,  in  a body;  “it  was 
Leif,  the  son  of  Erik  the  Red.” 

“ When  was  it  ? ” 

“About  the  year  1000.  And  there  was  Thorfinn 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREA  T GE  YSER.  249 


Karlsefne,  who  went  afterward,  and  Thorwald.  They 
called  the  country  Vinland.” 

“We  know  it,”  said  I.  “I  am  a Vinlander.  ” 

They  silently  stretched  out  their  hands  and  shook 
mine.  An  instinct  of  the  true  nature  of  the  people 
arose  in  me.  Within  an  hour  I had  seen  what  tender- 
ness, goodness,  knowledge,  and  desire  for  knowledge 
are  concealed  under  their  rude,  apathetic  exteriors.  To 
meet  them  was  like  being  suddenly  pushed  back  to 
the  thirteenth  century ; for  all  the  rich,  complex, 
later-developed  life  of  the  race  has  not  touched  them. 
More  than  ever  I regretted  my  ignorance  of  the  lan- 
guage, without  knowing  which  no  stranger  can  possi- 
bly understand  their  character* 

At  half-past  four  there  came  a repetition  of  Geyser 
thumps,  louder  and  more  rapid  than  the  first  time,  and 
at  eight  o’clock  a third  manifestation.  We  fondly 
hoped  that  these  were  signs  of  increased  activity, 
which  would  soon  bring  about  an  outburst.  Our 
excitement  increased  to  such  an  extent  that,  although 
watches  had  been  set  for  the  King’s  sake,  Messrs. 
Halstead,  Hayes,  and  Gladstone  volunteered  to  keep 
independent  watch  for  us.  The  two  former  passed 
half  the  night  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  Geyser-basin. 
They  were  once  scared  away  by  a thump  which  threat- 
ened to  split  the  rocky  shell  under  their  feet,  but 
nothing  followed  except  a violent  overflow  of  water.  I 
heard  the  noises  twice  during  the  night,  and  waited 
vainly  for  a call;  the  twilight  was  so  bright  that  the 
spectacle  would  have  been  visible  at  any  hour — had  it 


come. 


250 


ICELAND. 


The  Festival  at  Thingvalla  obliged  us  all  to  leave 
the  next  day.  Just  as  the  King’s  tents  were  struck, 
the  subterranean  noises  began  once  more ; there 
seemed  to  be  a malicious,  tantalizing  demon  at  work, 
to  excite  and  delude  us.  As  a last  compensation 
another  pile  of  sods  was  hurled  into  the  Strokr,  and  we 
all  gathered  about  it.  An  English  party  had  arrived 
the  day  before,  and  the  artist  of  The  London  Illus- 
trated News  stood  on  a mound,  with  pencil  and  sketch- 
book, to  record  the  result.  We  waited  a quarter  of  an 
hour  and  nothing  came;  the  King,  who  had  mean- 
while joined  our  American  party,  informed  us  that  the 
Little  Geyser  would  spout  in  a few  minutes.  What 
authority  he  had  I do  not  know,  but  it  was  bad  ; the 
Little  Geyser  kept  as  quiet  as  a lamb. 

Half  an  hour  passed,  and  the  Strokr  took  not  the 
least  notice  of  the  irritation.  The  royal  party  mounted 
and  rode  away  with  many  a longing,  lingering  look 
behind — when,  just  as  they  were  passing  out  of  sight 
around  the  corner  of  the  hill,  and  we  were  turning 
toward  our  tent,  the  Strokr  went  off  like  a cannon. 
The  wonderful,  plumy  bursts  were  repeated,  for  a 
shorter  space  of  time  than  before,  but  equally  lofty  and 
violent. 

It  seemed  hard  to  leave  the  spot,  for  the  day  we  had 
spent  there  was  perfect  in  its  way.  All  afternoon 
there  had  been  a lid  of  cloud  over  the  sky,  lifted,  all 
around,  over  an  intensely  clear  horizon.  The  broad, 
saddle-backed  top  of  Hekla  gleamed  resplendent  in  the 
level  evening  light — -at  first  gold,  then  amber,  then 
silver  against  the  rosy  air,  and  finally  a strange  shining 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREAT  GEYSER.  251 

pearly  green,  a tint  I never  before  saw.  The  far- 
away Jokulls  kept  the  sunshine  on  their  glaciers  for  a 
full  hour  after  it  had  disappeared  from  the  rest  of  the 
landscape,  and  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  they  rose 
out  of  the  lifeless  deserts  of  the  interior.  “ I never 
knew  Hekla  to  be  so  clear,  or  the  Geysers  so  quiet, 
said  Prof.  Steenstrup,  who  had  twice  before  visited  the 
spot. 

Dr.  Hayes  and  Mr.  Gladstone,  with  the  English 
party,  remained  behind  all  day,  and  reached  Thing- 
valla  this  morning  after  riding  all  mght.  They  were 
only  rewarded  with  the  continual  subterranean  thump- 
ing, and  took  their  revenge  upon  the  Strokr,  which 
they  so  incensed  that  he  spouted  half  a dozen  times. 

"The  pack-ponies  were  loaded;  we  got  into  our 
saddles,  moved  reluctantly  down  the  grassy  slope,  and 
turned  our  faces  away  from  the  lazy  volumes  of  steam. 
Then— there  was  a sudden  concussion  in  the  earth,  a 
momentary  quivering  followed  by  a strange,  hissing 
sound.  As  we  sprang  from  the  ponies,  the  basin  of 
the  Geyser  swelled  and  cast  out  a great  volume  of 
water.  Out  of  the  centre  a solid  crystal  mass  was 
thrust  up  to  the  height  of  twenty  feet;  then,  before  it 
wholly  fell  back,  the  central  jet  shot  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  into  the  air.  Again  and  again  this  huge 
liquid  shaft,  sparkling  with  indescribable  glory  in  the 
morning  sun,  was  hurled  on  high.  Amazement,  awe, 
terror  — ” 

This,  or  something  like  it,  was  what  I hoped  to  be 
able  to  write,  up  to  the  very  last  moment.  But  the 
truth  must  be  told  : the  Great  Geyser  would  not  spout. 


252 


ICELAND. 


I must  have  turned  in  my  saddle  a hundred  times 
while  the  steam-columns  were  visible,  half-fearing, 
half-expecting  a sudden  increase  of  their  volume, — - 
for  the  worst  disappointment  would  have  been  to  miss 
the  spectacle  so  nearly. 

Our  return  to  Thingvalla  was  delayed  a little  by  the 
circumstance  that  we  travelled  more  rapidly  than  the 
King’s  caravan,  and  were  several  times  obliged  to  draw 
aside  from  the  path  and  halt,  to  avoid  entanglement 
among  the  driven  ponies.  We  stopped  at  the  byre  of 
Mollir  to  get  a drink  of  milk  on  the  way.  The  owner 
is  evidently  a rich  farmer,  for  he  has  a wire-fence 
around  his  excellent  grass  land,  and  a patch  of  healthy 
potato-vines  before  his  door.  The  guest-room  was 
very  small,  but  neat,  and  there  was  a glimpse  of  quite 
a comfortable  bed-room  behind  it.  But  there  was  the 
same  low,  dark  entrance,  branching  to  stables,  dwell- 
ing and  store-rooms,  as  in  all  Icelandic  houses,  the 
same  close  atmosphere  and  thick,  rank  smell,  which 
certainly  account  for  the  great  mortality  among  the 
native  children. 

The  milk  is  equal  to  any  in  the  world.  I drank  a 
great  bowl  of  it,  and  gave  the  man  a piece  of  money 
for  his  daughter,  a clean,  rosy  girl  of  ten,  with  a string 
of  artificial  pearls  around  her  neck.  As  I was  about 
to  mount  he  brought  her  out  to  thank  me  by  shaking 
hands,  but  when  I claimed  a kiss  she  gave  it  with  in- 
nocent readiness.  As  we  again  crossed  the  high  lava- 
field,  which  was  blacker  than  ever  under  the  shadow 
of  clouds,  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  landscapes  of  the 
moon  must  be  similar  in  character.  Blackness,  bleak- 


WAITING  FOR  THE  GREAT  GEYSER.  253 

ness,  and  the  chill  spirit  of  extinct  flame  mark  the 
mountains  of  Iceland,  and  nowhere  does  a grassy 
meadow  or  a bank  of  humble  flowers  seem  worth  so 
much  as  here. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  NATIONAL  FESTIVAL  AT  THINGVALLA. 


EACHING  Thingvalla  towards  eight  o’clock  on 


Thursday  evening,  the  wild  valley  had  undergone 
a complete  transformation  since  we  left  it  three  days 
before.  The  steep  green  slopes  along  the  foot  of  the 
Allmannagja  were  dotted  with  little  tents  : four  large 
pavilions,  with  several  smaller  ones,  had  been  erected 
along  the  bank  of  the  river  ; on  the  Mount  of  the 
Law  a flagstaff  was  planted,  from  which  floated  the 
ancient  banner  of  Iceland,  a white  falcon  in  a blue 
field;  while  on  the  opposite  side,  towards  the  Axar 
cataract,  the  mound  where  the  judges  were  proved  of 
old  bore  a decorated  tribune  and  the  standards  of  the 
nations  represented  at  the  Festival.  On  the  right 
floated  the  colors  of  Norway,  England  and  the  United 
States;  on  the  left  those  of  Denmark,  Sweden,  and 
the  German  Empire.  The  standard  of  France  was 
placed  beside  ours  the  next  morning,  when  Baron 
Letourneur  and  another  French  officer  arrived. 
Groups  of  people  were  scattered  all  over  the  valley, 
or  on  the  rocky,  grass-topped  heights  ; flags  floated 
in  all  directions,  the  smoke  of  camp-fires  arose, 
shouts,  greetings  and  songs  resounded  through  the 


Rejkiavik,  Aug.  8. 


NA  TIONAL  FESTIVAL  A T THING  VA LLA . 255 


air, — in  short,  in  place  of  the  former  gloomy  silence 
and  solitude  of  the  scene,  all  was  life  and  joy. 

Riding  close  upon  the  heels  of  the  King  and  his 
escort,  we  saw  the  groups  of  people  gather  suddenly 
to  a crowd  around  the  foot  of  the  mound.  It  appeared 
that  a body  of  twelve  Icelandic  bonder,  or  farmers, 
selected  for  their  appearance  no  less  than  their  char- 
acter and  standing,  had  ridden  forward  to  meet  His 
Majesty  at  the  farm  of  Skyrcot — a little  oasis  in  the 
lava-field,  about  a mile  distant — and  had  escorted  him 
to  the  place  of  the  festival.  Here,  ranging  themselves 
six  on  each  side  of  the  path,  they  made  a sort  of  gate- 
way to  the  Thingvalla  ground.  The  Chairman  of  the 
Committee,  Fredriksson,  made  a short  address  of  wel- 
come, which  was  followed  by  such  loud  and  repeated 
cheers  that  many  of  the  ponies  took  fright.  Gov. 
Finssen  was  unhorsed,  but  the  King,  who  is  a most 
accomplished  rider,  sat  firmly,  patting  his  intelligent 
pony  on  the  neck.  Then  twenty-four  girls  came  for- 
ward, scattering  the  native  flowers  of  Iceland — thyme, 
anemone,  saxifrage,  and  geranium — in  the  Royal  path, 
while  the  choir,  posted  on  the  lava  rocks,  struck  up 
one  of  their  solemn,  soul-stirring  chants.  The  Royal 
camp  was  pitched,  as  before,  on  the  little  hill  in  front 
of  the  church,  but  there  was  now  quite  a village  of 
tents  around  it.  This  welcome  was  almost  an  im- 
provisation, but  it  was  entirely  successful,  and  struck 
a favorable  key-note  for  the  following  day. 

Slowly  making  our  way  on  our  jaded  horses  through 
the  friendly  crowds,  we  fell  in  with  Capts.  Von  Schro- 
der and  Von  Pavvels  of  the  German  frigate  Niobe,  to 


256  ICELAND. 

whom  we  had  offered  the  shelter  of  our  tent  for  the 
occasion.  The  camp  was  soon  made  behind  the 
church  and  beside  the  icy  crystal  of  the  Thingvalla 
spring.  For  the  rest  of  the  evening  the  greater  part 
of  the  crowd  ate,  drank,  and  made  themselves  com- 
fortable. The  Rejkiavik  students  sang  their  songs,  I 
believe  some  speeches  were  made  to  various  separate 
circles,  but  all  the  proceedings  had  a free,  informal 
character.  There  was  no  darkness  to  cover  us  as  with 
a cloak;  somebody  walked  and  somebody  talked  out- 
side, through  the  long  nocturnal  twilight,  and  we 
should  have  slept  little  but  for  the  grevious  fatigue  left 
from  the  preceding  days. 

Morning  came  and  brought  no  sun.  The  fair 
weather  was  gone  : a cold  wind  blew  down  from  the 
central  deserts  of  the  Island,  and  the  Broad-Shield 
Mountain,  in  the  north-east,  soon  grew  dim  under  a 
veil  of  rain.  The  plovers  piped  on  the  heather-covered 
ridges  of  lava,  and  the  weird  laughter  of  the  loons  was 
heard  along  the  shores  of  the  Thingvalla  Lake.  Our 
friend  Magnusson  came  early  with  an  invitation  from 
the  National  Committee  to  breakfast  with  them  and 
the  Royal  party  in  the  pavillion  at  eleven  o’clock.  The 
exercises  at  the  Mound  of  the  Judges  were  to  com- 
mence at  ten,  so,  after  taking  coffee,  I set  out  with  our 
German  guests  to  visit  the  famous  Logberg,  or  Hill  of 
the  Law,  where  the  Althing  or  Popular  Assembly  of 
Iceland  was  held  for  nearly  nine  hundred  years. 

History  states  that  when  the  independent  chiefs  who 
first  took  up  the  habitable  part  of  Iceland  found  it 
necessary  to  unite  and  form  a superior  government  for 


NA  T10NAL  FESTIVAL  A T THING  VALLA.  257 

all,  they  had  some  difficulty  in  selecting  a suitable 
spot  for  its  deliberations.  In  the  year  930,  Thingvalla 
was  finally  chosen,  and  no  other  spot,  certainly,  could 
have  invested  the  Althing  with  such  an  air  of  awe  and 
solemnity.  The  great  lava  plain  of  Thingvalla  (or,  in 
Icelandic,  Thingvetlir)  is  rent  by  deep,  tremendous 
fissures,  in  a general  direction  from  north  to  south. 
One  of  these,  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  valley,  forms 
almost  an  island,  attached  to  the  main  mass  of  rock 
by  a narrow  natural  bridge.  It  is  about  three  hundred 
yards  long,  but  not  more  than  sixty  or  seventy  feet 
wide  at  the  broadest  part.  The  summit  is  uneven, 
rising  as  you  approach  the  further  end,  until  its  jagged 
pinnacles  look  down  on  either  side  into  chasms  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  deep,  where  a dark  mysterious 
indigo-colored  water  flows  onward,  whence  or  whither 
no  one  can  tell.  The  character  of  the  place  is  more 
than  savage  : it  is  diabolical. 

Near  the  entrance  one  ancient  Jar]  was  supposed  to 
be  able  to  defend  the  whole  mount,  since  access  was 
impossible  at  any  other  point.  A part  of  the  rock 
must  afterward  have  given  way  and  fallen  across  the 
chasm,  for  it  is  now  bridged  toward  the  other  extrem- 
ity. The  white  falcon  of  Iceland  flapped  lonelike  in  the 
rain  as  we  stood  upon  the  mound  where  the  forty-eight 
judges  sat  upon  the  middle  bench,  each  with  a deputy 
before  and  another  behind  him,  making  one  hundred 
and  forty-four  in  all.  At  first  this  mound  was  inclosed 
by  a circle  of  hazle  sticks,  bound  with  the  sacred  cords 
or  fillets.  The  Lawgiver,  who  was  chosen  for  three 
years,  directed  the  proceedings.  After  the  year  999, 
17 


253 


ICELAND. 


the  Althing  was  opened  on  the  Thursday  between  the 
1 8th  and  23d  of  June,  and  remained  in  session  fourteen 
days.  Since  agriculture  could  not  be  carried  on  in 
Iceland  and  the  raising  of  cattle  required  little  labor, 
the  men  early  acquired  the  habit  of  travelling  to 
Thingvalla  every  year,  so  that  finally  many  thousands 
of  persons  assembled  in  the  valley,  exchanged  infor- 
mation, traded,  feasted,  and  thus  established  a kind 
of  National  Fair.  The  civil  and  criminal  cases  were 
practically  tried  before  the  whole  people,  and  whatever 
law  was  decreed  went  immediately  into  action. 

After  Iceland  fell  to  Norway,  and  then  to  Denmark, 
the  form  of  holding  the  Althing  was  still  observed,  al- 
though it  was  scarcely  more  than  an  empty  form.  The 
meetings  were  held  in  the  open  air,  as  in  the  old  and 
glorious  ages,  until  the  year  1690,  when  a wall  of 
blocks  of  lava  was  erected  and  a canvas  roof  spanned  - 
over  it  to  protect  the  delegates  from  inclement 
weather.  Here  Danish  law  was  proclaimed  to  the 
people  up  to  the  year  1800,  when  the  seat  of  justice 
was  removed  to  Rejkiavik.  Even  the  old  wall  has  been 
taken  away,  and  the  Hill  of  the  Law  is  now  as  bare 
and  grand  as  when  it  witnessed  the  deliberations  of  a 
free  people. 

I was  surprised  to  remark  that  so  few  natives  visited 
the  place.  Now  and  then  a man,  probably  from  some 
remote  part  of  the  island,  climbed  the  uneven  crest, 
and  looked  up  in  a vacant  way  at  the  ancient  banner 
or  down  into  the  awful  chasms  of  cold,  swirling  water; 
but  the  pavilions  and  flags,  the  music  and  the  multi- 
tudes beyond  the  river  were  greater  attractions.  In 


NA  TIONAL  FESTIVAL  A T THING  V A LLA.  259 


truth,  it  was  an  uncanny  spot,  and  I did  not  myself 
feel  inclined  to  linger  there  longer  than  was  necessary. 
By  this  time  a light  but  steady  rain  had  set  in,  and  all 
but  the  hardened  Icelanders  moved  toward  the  place 
of  ceremonies  in  waterproof  coats.  After  crossing  the 
plank  bridge  which  had  been  thrown  across  the  river, 
the  King  was  arrested  by  the  formal  address  of  the 
People  of  Iceland  on  the  occasion  of  the  Thousandth 
Anniversary.  It  was  read  by  Herr  Thomssen,  of 
Bressastadr.  Hearty  loyalty,  covering  a strong  ex- 
pression of  the  distinct  desire  of  the  people  for  in- 
dependence in  their  own  government,  characterized 
this  as  all  the  other  addresses.  The  King  responded 
briefly,  there  were  cheers,  the  band  struck  up  the 
Danish  national  anthem,  and  the  procession  moved 
forward  to  the  mound.  The  people  seemed  to  have 
lost,  at  last,  their  apathetic  expression : their  faces 
were  bright  and  animated,  they  cheered  lustily,  and 
even  we,  who  came  last  in  the  ranks,  received  our 
full  share  of  greetings. 

The  remaining  ceremony  consisted  simply  in  the 
reception  of  commemorative  addresses  which  had  been 
fowarded  to  Iceland.  The  National  Committee,  with 
Fredriksson  as  President  and  Magnusson  as  chief  ac- 
tive member,  took  their  places  on  the  tribune ; the 
King  and  other  high  officials  formed  a circle  below, 
on  the  slope  of  the  mound,  and  the  people  scattered 
themselves  to  right  and  left,  as  they  could  best  get  a 
view.  The  four  Scandinavian  Universities — Copen- 
hagen, Lund,  Upsala  and  Christiania — sent  congrat- 
ulatory documents,  inscribed  on  vellum  and  hand- 


26(1 


ICELAND. 


somely  bound  ; societies  of  students  in  Denmark  and 
Norway  greeted  their  Icelandic  (Pan-Scandinavian  }>) 
brethren;  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Copenhagen 
sent  a testimonial  to  the  effect  that  it  considered 
Thorwaldsen  an  Icelander,  and  there  were  addresses 
from  patriotic  societies  in  Norway,  which  aim  at  re- 
viving the  old  Norwegian  language  so  far  as  practica- 
ble— at  least,  preserving  an  idiom  distinct  from  the 
Danish.  Last  of  all,  as  being  unofficial,  the  poetic 
greeting  adopted  by  the  Americans  present  and  men- 
tioned in  a former  letter,  was  added  to  the  other  doc- 
uments. 

Half  an  hour  was  then  devoted  by  the  King  to  re- 
ceiving such  of  the  people  as  desired  to  speak  to  him. 
His  manner,  as  it  has  been  from  first  to  last,  was  ad- 
mirable— never  lacking  in  true  dignity,  yet  thoroughly 
simple,  friendly,  and  familiar.  He  has  evidently  taken 
especial  pains  to  meet  the  shy,  democratic  Icelanders 
half  way,  and  has  been  more  successful  than  he  pro- 
bably suspects.  The  absence  of  the  usual  signs  of 
profound  respect  among  the  people,  often  the  stolidity 
of  the  man  spoken  to,  the  steady,  unconscious  stare 
of  interest,  so  forgetful  that  his  greeting  is  frequently 
not  returned,  must  be  quite  a new  experience  for 
Christian  IX.  He  cannot  always  quite  conceal  a fleet- 
ing expression  of  weariness  or  disappointment ; yet  I 
am  sure  that  he  is  every  hour  making  friends  in  Ice- 
land. I have  taken  the  trouble  to  ask  as  many  of  the 
people  as  can  understand  me,  what  they  think  of  the 
King,  and  the  one  answer  is:  “ He  is  very  friendly, 
and  we  are  sure  he  is  honest.” 


NA  TIONAL  FESTIVAL  A T THING  VA LLA . 261 


At  the  door  of  the  large  pavilion  the  chorus  was 
stationed,  and  we  had  a new  song — Minni  Konungs 
a Thingvelli,  written  by  Jochumsson,  to  the  grand  old 
Danish  air  of  “ King  Christian  lays  aside  his  Sword." 
It  was  superbly  sung,  and  the  auditors  were  silently 
but  very  deeply  moved.  The  following  hasty  trans- 
lation is  the  best  return  I can  make  the  author  for  his 
courtesy  in  rendering  a similar  service  to  myself  : 

THE  king’s  WELCOME  TO  HINGVALLA. 

I. 

With  strong  foot  tread  the  holy  ground, 

Our  snow-land’s  King,  the  lofty-hearted. 

Who  from  thy  royal  home  hast  parted,  , 

To  greet  these  hills  that  guard  us  round  ! 

Our  Freedom’s  scroll  thy  hand  hath  lent  us, 

The  first  of  kings  whom  God  has  sent  us, 

Hail ! welcome  to  our  country’s  heart ! 

II. 

Land’s-father,  here  the  Law-Mount  view  ! 

Behold  God’s  works  in  all  their  vastness  ! 

Where  saw’st  thou  Freedom’s  fairer  fastness, 

With  fire-heaved  ramparts,  waters  blue? 

Here  sprang  the  sagas  of  our  splendor  : 

Here  every  Iceland  heart  is  tender  : 

God  built  this  altar  for  his  flock  ! 

III. 

Here,  as  in  thousand  years  of  old, 

Sound  the  same  words,  a voice  unended. 

As  when  their  life  and  law  defended 
The  spearmen  with  their  shields  of  gold  : 


262 


ICELAND. 


The  same  land  yet  the  same  speech  giveth, 

The  ancient  soul  of  Freedom  liveth, 

And  hither,  King,  we  welcome  thee  ! 

IV. 

But  now  are  past  a thousand  years, 

As  in  the  people’s  memory  hoarded. 

And  in  God’s  volume  stand  recorded 
Their  strife  and  trial,  woes  and  fears  ; 

Now  let  the  hope  of  better  ages 
Be  what  thy  presence,  King  ! presages, — 

Now  let  the  prosperous  time  be  sure  ! 

V. 

Our  land  to  thee  her  thanks  shall  yield, 

A thousand  years  thy  name  be  chanted. 

Here,  where  the  Hill  of  Law  is  planted, 

’Twixt  fiery  fount  and  lava-field  : 

We  pray  All-Father,  our  dependence, 

To  bless  thee  and  thy  far  descendants, 

And  those  they  rule,  a thousand  years  ! 

At  the  close  of  the  song  we  were  ushered  into  the  pavil- 
ion, and  assigned  places  with  the  other  foreign  guests. 
The  breakfast  was  substantial  and  sufficiently  national, 
consisting  of  salmon,  mayonnaise  of  fish,  cold  mutton, 
and  excellent  Rejkiavik  bread,  with  claret,  sherry,  and 
finally  champagne.  It  was,  in  fact,  rather  a dinner 
than  a breakfast,  or  served  a^such  for  the  Royal  party. 
Thomssen  of  Bressastadr  first  arose  and  made  a pleas- 
ant, semi-humorous  speech  in  Danish.  He  repeated 
the  old  legend  of  the  first  discoverer  of  Iceland  meet- 
ing a dragon,  a bull  breathing  flame,  and  a giant 


NA  TIONAL  FESTIVAL  A T THINGVALLA.  263 


coming  down  from  the  mountains  with  an  iron  staff, 
all  three  of  which  the  hero  must  overcome  before  he 
could  possess  the  land  ; and  then,  likening  Christian 
IX.  to  the  hero,  left  us  in  doubt  as  to  whom  or  what 
was  typified  by  the  three  monsters.  However,  exact 
simile  is  not  always  required  ; the  compliment  to  the 
King  found  the  Icelanders  warm  and  prepared  to  receive 
it,  and  the  end  was  His  Hajesty’s  health,  with  nine 
tremendous  cheers.  The  King  returned  thanks,  with 
evident  feeling,  and  gave  as  a toast:  “ Prosperity  to 
sublime  Iceland  ! ” 

After  a health  to  Queen  Louise  of  Denmark,  pro- 
posed by  Chief-Justice  Jonasson,  our  friend,  Erik 
Magnusson  made  the  speech  of  the  occasion.  It  was 
in  Icelandic,  and  I could  only  guess  a little  of  its  sub- 
stance, here  and  there  ; but  the  rich  rhythm  and  reso- 
nance of  the  ancient  tongue  were  a delight  to  the  ear. 
Its  contrast  with  the  previous  Danish  speeches  was 
surprising.  The  natives  present  kindled  and  warmed 
as  the  speaker  proceeded,  until  th;re  was  a burst  of 
“Bravo!”  after  almost  every  sentence.  In  fact,  in 
spite  of  the  open  loyalty  of  the  speech,  it  was  power- 
fully calculated  to  arouse  the  national  pride.  Magnus- 
son spoke  of  the  Icelanders  as  being  themselves  of 
Kingly  blood,  as  obedient  only  to  honor  and  honesty, 
and  as  claiming  an  equal  measure  of  respect  with  that 
they  yielded.  His  words  were  manly,  not  defiant : the 
very  beginning  of  the  address — “ Sir  King,”  instead 
of  “ Your  Majesty,” — struck  the  old  independent  key- 
note, and  the  close,  hoping  that  the  second  thousand 
years  of  Iceland’s  history  might  find  the  same  dynasty 


264 


ICELAND. 


in  power,  was  only  uttered  after  a distinct  declaration 
of  what  was  expected  from  the  dynasty  in  the  mean 
time. 

This  was  a fitting  close  to  the  celebration.  When 
we  issued  from  the  pavilion  it  was  raining  more  dis- 
mally than  ever.  The  horses  for  the  King’s  party  were 
in  readiness,  and  by  one  o’clock  they  were  in  the  sad- 
dles, meaning  to  reach  Rejkiavik  the  same  evening. 
The  members  of  the  choir  went  in  advance  to  the  All- 
mannagja,  and  there,  under  the  lava  walls  of  the  tre- 
mendous cleft,  sang  a parting  song.  One  by  one  the 
calvacade  disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the  sharp 
crest,  and  Thingvalla  was  left  to  the  people  of  Ice- 
land. 

Near  the  national  pavilion  there  was  a large  tent 
belonging  to  the  merchants  of  Rejkiavik,  then  a second 
for  the  students,  and  a third  for  the  mechanics.  I 
looked  into  each  of  them  in  the  hope  of  discovering 
some  characteristic  group,  or  haply  of  being  invited  to 
share  in  some  festivity;  but  the  owners  were  scattered 
over  the  valley,  and  only  a few  ladies  had  taken  shel- 
ter from  the  rain.  We  climbed  the  rocks  to  get  a 
view  of  the  Axar-foss,  and  looked  into  the  pool  where 
witches  and  capitally-condemned  criminals  were 
drowned  in  the  old  days,  then  wandered  back  to  our 
tent  and  waited,  but  without  much  confidence,  for  a 
change  in  the  weather. 

I had  several  visitors  during  the  afternoon.  With 
one  of  them,  a farmer  named  Halldar  Iljarneson,  I 
managed  to  infuse  enough  Icelandic  words  into  Danish 
to  have  some  conversation  about  the  ancient  sagas. 


NA  T/ONAL  FESTIVAL  A T THINGVALLA.  265 

He  informed  me  that  he  was  descended  from  Sigurd, 
the  Dragon-slayer,  and  that  Hradevald,  a King  of 
Denmark,  twelve  hundred  years  ago,  was  also  his  an- 
cestor in  a direct  line.  Immediately  after  him  came  one 
of  the  few  beautiful  girls  I saw  in  Iceland,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a clergyman  on  the  Breidi-Fjord,  a thorough 
lady  in  her  manners.  She  had  studied  English  during 
the  long  Winters,  but  had  never  spoken  the  language; 
yet,  in  half  an  hour,  with  a little  encouragement,  she 
began  to  speak  it  very  slowly  and  deliberately,  yet 
with  surprising  correctness. 

There  were  to  have  been  many  more  speeches  and 
songs  from  the  tribune  on  the  mound,  but  the  rain 
seemed  to  have  disturbed  the  programme.  After  the 
King’s  departure,  the  people  broke  up  into  little  com- 
panies, some  of  which  were  jolly  enough,  and  all,  I 
imagine,  made  the  best  of  their  situation.  Our  party, 
however,  was  already  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  we  could 
do  nothing  else  than  crouch  under  our  tent-covers  for 
the  rest  of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A NEW  POLITICAL  ERA  FOR  ICELAND. 

Rejkiavik,  August  8. 

TN  order  to  understand  clearly  the  present  political 
situation — or  crisis,  if  the  word  be  not  too  strong  a 
term — in  Iceland,  one  should  be  familiar  with  the  pre- 
vious history  of  the  island.  This  is  not  easily  accessi- 
ble, at  least  so  far  as  its  history  under  Danish  rule  is 
concerned ; but  a few  leading  outlines  will  be  sufficient 
to  explain  the  gradual  decay  of  the  native  energy  of 
the  people,  and  the  loss  of  their  prosperity. 

The  original  Government  instituted  by  the  first  set- 
tlers was  independent  and  rudely  patriarchial  in  char- 
acter, rather  than  republican.  The  chiefs,  who  emi- 
grated from  Norway,  with  their  dependents  and  slaves, 
became  Goder  (a  title  combining  the  offices  of  priest 
and  judge),  and  the  Althing,  or  Assembly  of  the 
People,  rather  represented  their  class  interests  than 
those  of  the  whole  population.  Nevertheless,  they 
were  powerful  enough  and  wise  enough  to  establish  a 
system  under  which  there  was  tolerable  equity  for  all, 
and  which  contributed  to  the  national  success  of  Ice- 
land. It  was  certainly  a much  freer  and  simpler  sys- 
tem than  had  been  previously  known  in  Norway ; 
yet,  even  after  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  blood 
revenge  was  permitted,  and  ambush,  or  the  surround- 


A NEW  POLITICAL  ERA.  267 

ing  of  a house  and  burning  of  a whole  family,  was 
considered  justifiable. 

The  old  accounts  of  the  prosperity  of  the  island 
seem  strange  to  those  who  visit  it  now.  During  the 
the  tenth,  eleventh,  and  twelfth  centuries,  great  quan- 
tities of  wadmal  (a  coarse  woolen  cloth),  furs,  skins, 
eider-down,  fish,  oil,  and  tallow  were  sent  to  England 
and  Norway,  and  exchanged  for  meal,  timber,  iron 
and  steel  implements,  linen,  fine  cloths,  and  carpets. 
Many  Icelanders  visited  not  only  the  northern  capitals 
of  Europe,  but  also  Constantinople,  Rome,  and  Jeru- 
salem. As  each  returned,  he  was  welcomed  at  all 
gatherings  of  the  people,  and  was  expected  to  describe 
his  adventures.  Family  festivals  occupied  much  of 
the  spare  time  of  the  inhabitants.  A marriage, 
birth,  or  death  brought  hundreds  together,  and  they 
were  often  entertained  many  days.  When  Hoskulk 
died,  nine  hundred  and  sixty  persons  drank  for  four- 
teen days  in  his  honor,  and  at  Hjalke’s  funeral  there 
were  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  forty  present.  A 
man  named  And,  feeling  his  end  appproaching,  gave 
a grand  feast,  during  which  he  distributed  his  prop- 
erty among  his  heirs,  and  bestowed  rich  gifts  on  all 
the  principle  guests. 

The  young  men  held  athletic  matches,  and  strove  for 
preeminence  in  bowling,  riding,  running,  swimming, 
and  skating.  Chess  was  a favorite  game,  and  songs 
were  also  sung  for  prizes.  The  Skalds  wandered  from 
house  to  house,  singing  the  chronicles  of  the  ances- 
tors, which  were  cut  in  runes  on  staves,  to  assist  the 
memory,  before  the  introduction  of  writing  in  Gothic 


268 


ICELAND. 


characters.  All  these  characteristics  testify  to  a state  of 
well-being  among  the  people,  which  they  have  not  pos- 
sessed for  many  centuries  past.  The  internal  feuds 
which  so  weakened  them  that  voluntary  submission 
to  Norwegian  rule  seemed  the  least  of  many  evils, 
was  the  first  cause  of  their  downfall.  In  propor- 
tion as  the  Icelanders  lost  their  native  energy  and 
independence,  they  yielded  the  more  easily  to  the  en- 
croachments, first  of  Norway  and  then  of  Denmark, 
upon  the  rights  at  first  reserved  for  themselves. 
The  latter  gradually  disappeared,  or  were  so  cur- 
tailed that  they  barely  continued  to  exist  in  form;  and 
about  the  year  1660  the  island  virtually  lost  every  ves- 
tige of  independence.  Denmark’s  rule  was  absolute, 
and  there  was  no  appeal  from  it.  Even  the  few  traders 
appointed  by  the  Danish  Government  for  the  island, 
and  allowed  the  entire  monopoly  of  its  commerce  were 
Danes,  not  Icelanders.  The  people  grew  steadily 
poorer,  and  powerless  in  proportion  to  their  poverty. 

This  state  of  things  lasted,  with  slight  variations,  for 
nearly  two  centuries.  Some  amelioration  was  granted 
by  the  Danish  Government  in  1845,  but  even  then, 
and  since  then,  Iceland  was  treated  wfith  less  consid- 
eration than  the  Faroe  Islands  and  other  dependen- 
cies of  Denmark.  Nevertheless,  here  was  a beginning 
which  stimulated  some  of  her  patriotic  citizens  to 
bolder  action.  An  agitation  ensued  which  has  not  yet 
entirely  ceased,  although  comparatively  a great  deal 
has  been  accomplished.  The  leader  of  the  movement 
is  Jon  Sigurdsson,  a name  dear  to  the  people  of  Iceland, 
although  its  bearer  could  not  be  present  at  this  memo- 


A NEW  POLITICAL  ERA.  269 

rable  anniversary.  The  Constitution  which,  as  the 
King  declared,  he  “ brought  with  him,”  is  mainly  due 
to  the  persistent  claims  and  representations  of  Jon 
Sigurdsson  at  Copenhagen.  Copies  of  it  were  furnished 
to  us;  but  I think  it  unnecessary  to  translate  every 
clause  in  detail,  and  will  here  only  give  a brief  resume 
of  its  most  important  features. 

The  document  is  divided  into  seven  parts,  or  chap- 
ters. The  first  of  these,  which  contains  thirteen  para- 
graphs, deals  with  the  relations  between  the  King  and 
Danish  Government  on  one  side,  and  the  legislative 
assembly,  or  Althing  on  the  other.  The  legislative 
power  belongs  to  the  King  and  Althing , the  executive 
power  with  the  King  alone,  and  the  judicial  power 
with  the  judges.  Iceland  has  no  voice  in  Danish  na- 
tional questions,  since  it  is  not  represented  in  the 
Rigsdag  at  Copenhagen  ; consequently  it  bears  no 
part  of  the  national  expenditures.  The  highest  power 
in  Iceland  belongs  to  the  Governor,  who  is  appointed  by 
the  King.  Should  the  Althing  have  reason  to  complain 
of  the  Governor,  the  King  decides  in  each  particular 
case.  [Although  the  Minister  for  Iceland  is  declared 
to  be  responsible  for  his  acts,  the  King’s  power  prac- 
tically neutralizes  this  clause.]  The  Althing,  called  by 
the  King,  sits  every  other  year,  but  only  for  six  weeks, 
unless  prolonged  by  Royal  consent.  A special  session 
may  be  called  for  at  the  King’s  pleasure  ; the  latter 
may  also  prorogue  the  Althing,  but  only  once  a year, 
and  for  four  weeks  at  a time.  The  King  has  power  to 
dissolve  the  Althing,  in  which  case  new  elections 
shall  be  held  within  two  months,  and  the  new  Assem- 


2/0 


ICELAND. 


bly  shall  meet  the  following  year.  No  decree  of  the 
Althing  has  the  force  of  law  without  the  King’s  con- 
sent, and  if  he  fail  to  sign  a bill  before  the  next  ses- 
sion of  the  body,  the  bill  is  null  and  void.  The 
minor  provisions  of  this  first  chapter  harmonize  with 
these  leading  features. 

Chapter  II.  relates  to  the  Constitution  of  the  Althing. 
It  shall  consist  of  thirty  deputies  elected  by  the  people, 
and  six  chosen  by  the  King.  The  former  hold  office 
during  six  years,  the  latter  retaining  their  places  in 
case  an  Assembly  should  be  dissolved.  The  Althing 
is  divided  into  an  upper  and  a lower  house,  the  former 
composed  of  the  six  deputies  appointed  by  the  King, 
and  six  more  chosen  by  the  thirty  elected  members 
from  out  their  own  number.  The  lower  house  is  thus 
formed  by  the  remaining  twenty-four  members  of  the 
latter  class.  The  other  clauses  of  this  chapter  relate 
to  the  filling  of  vacancies  and  the  civil  conditions  which 
make  a citizen  of  Iceland  eligible  to  election  as  a mem- 
ber of  the  Althing. 

Chapter  III.  defines  the  legislative  functions  of  the 
two  houses  and  their  cooperative  action.  The  regular 
Althing  shall  meet  on  the  first  work-day  in  July  (un- 
less the  King  orders  otherwise),  in  Rejkiavik.  Each 
house  has  the  right  to  introduce  and  pass  bills;  also  to 
appoint  committees  for  the  investigation  of  matters  of 
special  interest,  such  committees  having  power  to  send 
for  persons  and  papers.  No  tax  may  be  imposed,  al- 
tered or  removed,  except  by  course  of  law.  The  Al- 
thing has  entire  control  of  the  finances  of  the  island, 
which  it  must  regulate  by  a biennial  budget,  with  the 


A NEW  POLITICAL  ERA. 


271 


condition  that  the  salaries  of  the  Danish  functionaries 
(including  the  six  members  appointed  by  the  King), 
take  precedence  of  all  other  expenditure.  The  regu- 
lations in  regard  to  the  reading  of  a bill  three  times, 
to  returning  a bill  from  one  house  to  another  with 
amendments,  to  a quorum  of  members  being  present, 
etc.,  are  similar  to  the  parliamentary  laws  of  other 
countries,  and  need  not  be  repeated.  Two-thirds  of 
the  members  of  either  House  constituting  a quorum, 
however,  it  will  always  be  possible  for  four  of  the 
King’s  deputies  to  prevent  any  legislation  not  agree- 
able to  Denmark,  by  their  simple  absence. 

Chapter  IV.  contains  clauses  regulating  the  judiciary 
powers. 

Chapter  V.  provides  for  the  State  Church,  the 
“Evangelical  Lutheran,”  but  guarantees  liberty  of 
conscience  to  all  the  inhabitants. 

Chapter  VI.  embraces  provisions  relating  to  the 
freedom  of  the  subject,  the  sanctity  of  home  and 
private  property,  the  freedom  of  labor,  poor-laws,  ele- 
mentary education,  freedom  of  the  press,  freedom  of 
association  and  assembly,  rights  of  municipal  govern- 
ment, taxation,  and  privileges  of  the  nobility,  which 
last,  together  with  their  titles,  are  henceforth  abol- 
ished. 

Chapter  VII.  and  last  provides  that  propositions 
with  a view  to  amending  or  adding  to  the  present 
Constitution  may  be  introduced  either  at  a regular 
or  an  extraordinary  session  of  the  Althing.  If  such 
a proposition  receive  the  necessary  majority  in  both 
houses,  the  A Ithing  shall  be  dissolved  forthwith  and 


272 


ICELAND. 


a new  election  ordered.  If  the  newly-elected  Althing 
then  accepts  the  same  proposition  without  amend- 
ment, and  the  latter  then  receives  the  Royal  sanction, 
it  comes  into  force  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  constitu- 
tional law. 

It  will  be  sufficiently  seen  from  this  abstract  how 
jealously  the  Royal  prerogatives  are  guarded,  and  how 
carefully  the  Danish  supremacy  is  provided  for  in  a 
Government  which  professes  to  bestow  a certain 
amount  of  autonomy  upon  Iceland.  Yet,  with  all 
its  illiberal  and  even  despotic  restrictions,  the  people 
accept  the  Constitution,  for  it  is  something.  If  noth- 
ing else,  it  is  the  beginning  of  that  political  education 
which  they  have  utterly  lost  for  so  many  centuries, 
and  which  alone  can  finally  qualify  them  to  obtain 
their  just  demands.  The  great  service  which  Jon 
Sigurdsson  has  rendered  to  Iceland  is  not  so  much  in 
the  gift  of  this  Constitution  as  in  the  fact  that  he  has 
broken  the  long  apathy  of  the  people,  persuaded 
them  to  ask,  and  secured  them  a result  which  means 
courage  for  the  future,  if  not  satisfaction  with  the  pres- 
ent. In  this  sense  the  1st  of  August,  1874,  is  the 
opening  of  a new  era  in  Iceland’s  history. 

Notwithstanding  a common  origin  and  so  much  of 
common  legend  and  tradition,  there  seems  to  be  a 
considerable  gulf  between  the  two  races.  They  are 
certainly  not  attached  to  each  other,  for  each  is  too 
proud  to  give  more  respect  than  is  returned — in  fact, 
each  would  willingly  claim  the  largest  share.  I do  not 
find  that  the  Danish  officials — even  those  who  have 
been  some  years  on  the  island — take  any  pains  to 


A NEW  POLITICAL  ERA. 


273 


learn  the  language,  or  acquaint  themselves  with  the 
deeper  characteristics  of  the  people.  If  my  impres- 
sion is  right,  this  is  greatly  to  be  regretted.  With 
all  their  pride,  their  sensitiveness,  their  jealousy,  and 
the  rash,  hot  blood  sleeping  under  their  grave  de- 
meanor, no  people  are  more  worthy  the  honest  and 
unselfish  friendship  of  their  rulers.  I have  rarely,  if 
ever,  been  so  profoundly  interested  in  a race.  Not 
Thingvalla,  or  Hekla,  or  the  Geysers — not  the  deso- 
late, fire-blackened  mountains,  the  awful  gloom  of  the 
dead  lava  plains,  the  bright  lakes  and  majestic  fiords 
— have  repaid  me  lor  this  journey,  but  the  brief 
glimpse  of  a grand  and  true-hearted  people,  innocent 
children  in  their  trust  and  their  affections,  almost 
more  than  men  in  their  brave,  unmurmuring  endu- 
rance ! 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  RETURN  TO  REJKIAVIK  AND  VOYAGE  TO 
SCOTLAND. 

Off  Cape  Rejkiances,  August  9. 

HOW  suddenly  all  has  changed  ! Yesterday  morn- 
ing we  were  still  at  Thingvalla;  this  morning  we 
are  passing  Cape  Rejkiances.  in  storm  and  rain  and 
driving  scud,  and  Iceland  is  but  a dim  line  of  savage 
coast  on  the  lee  ! 

Our  last  night  in  the  tent  was  rather  dismal.  A 
cold,  steady  rain  being  less  a necessity  to  us  than  to 
the  natives,  even  the  closing  shouts  and  songs  of  the 
festival  could  not  entice  us  forth  from  our  imperfect 
shelter,  to  seek  the  scene  of  rather  confused  jollifica- 
tion through  mud  and  icy  water  and  sodden  turf.  We 
huddled  under  the  wet  canvas,  wrapped  in  rugs  and 
blankets,  and  kept  up  a grim  cheerfulness  for  an  hour 
or  two  following  dinner — after  which  all  gradually 
dropped  into  audible  slumber.  The  order  was  to  rise 
at  two  in  the  morning,  and  start  at  three,  so  as  to 
reach  Rejkiavik  by  noon.  I gave  myself  up  to  un- 
troubled rest,  trusting  to  Mr.  Field,  who  is  never  more 
in  his  element  than  when  a start  is  to  be  made. 

The  getting  up  in  the  damp,  however,  was  dismal, 


THE  RETURN  TO  REJKIA  V IK. 


2/5 


and  the  start  was  more  easily  arranged  than  accom- 
plished, for  a batch  of  our  ponies  ran  away  and  were 
not  found  for  an  hour  or  more.  It  was  half-past  four 
when  our  vanguard,  leaving  the  baggage  and  two 
servants  to  follow  with  the  guides,  moved  away  past 
the  church  of  Thingvalla,  across  the  rising  river,  and 
into  the  chasm  of  the  Allmannagja.  The  track  had 
become  simply  horrible.  All  the  fresh  earth  thrown 
upon  it  to  make  the  King’s  way  easy  had  been  worked 
into  a paste  by  rain  and  many  hoofs.  Our  ponies 
slipped,  stumbled  and  splashed,  coating  us  with  mud 
to  the  hips,  while  the  ice-cold  water,  gradually  soak- 
ing through  the  toughest  leather,  chilled  both  blood 
and  marrow.  Hardly  had  we  climbed  the  Allmanna- 
gja, when  a drizzle  set  in  which  soon  became  a rain 
and  then  a storm,  and  anything  mere  dark,  forlorn, 
and  cheerless  than  our  journey  it  would  be  difficult  to 
imagine. 

I have  already  described  the  scenery,  and  can  only 
add  that  every  fleeting  charm  of  color  imparted  by 
sunshine  and  clear  air  had  vanished,  and  the  entire 
gloom  and  sterility  of  the  land  became  hideously  ap- 
parent under  such  a sky.  We  jogged  steadily  onward, 
silent  and  much-enduring  ; when  we  urged  our  ponies 
they  stumbled,  when  we  allowed  them  to  walk  they 
became  discouraged.  Hour  after  hour,  across  the 
broad,  lonely  terraces,  the  desolate  lava-field  with  its 
cairns  of  stone,  up  and  down  the  stony  swells,  around 
the  angle  of  the  isolated  mountain,  we  pressed,  until 
the  meadows  of  Shljedal  announced  our  half-way  station 
to  Rejkiavik. 


276 


ICELAND. 


Here  there  was  a brief  halt,  a change  of  riding 
ponies,  and  a division  of  a very  scant  supply  of  ship’s 
biscuit  and  salt  tongue.  Three  of  our  party  had  gone 
on,  and  we  found  them  at  the  first  farmstead,  a mile 
or  two  further,  waiting  for  the  good-wife  to  make  them 
coffee.  The  place  looked  prosperous,  according  to  the 
Icelandic  standard,  yet  the  house  was  low,  cramped, 
and  far  from  clean.  The  rain  leaked  into  the  passage- 
ways, and  the  tangle-haired  children,  at  nine  o’clock 
in  the  morning,  were  still  in  bed.  Formerly  every 
tolerable  house  on  the  island  had  its  bath-room ; now 
the  guest-room  is  called  (the  old  term  being  retained) 
the  •'  bath-room,”  and  the  bath  has  become  an  un- 
known feature  of  Icelandic  life  ! The  general  w'ant  of 
cleanliness  gives  rise  to  another  plague  of  the  country, 
which  I need  not  describe  more  particularly,  since  our 
tent-life  preserved  us  from  it. 

Of  course,  the  change  for  the  worse  in  the  habits  of 
of  the  Icelanders  is  mainly  ou'ing  to  their  poverty.  It 
is  singular  that  they  developed  a sturdy  national  life 
and  a degree  of  literary  culture,  which  is  almost  phe- 
nomenal during  the  darkest  ages  of  Europe,  and  that 
the  close  of  this  illustrious  period  is  nearly  coeval  writh 
the  beginning  of  the  same  development  in  England, 
Germany,  and  Italy.  A good  deal  of  the  Icelandic 
decline  is  undoubtedly  to  be  attributed  to  the  com- 
bined neglect  and  oppression  of  the  Norwegian  and 
Danish  rulers;  but  the  material  misfortunes  of  the 
island  must  not  be  overlooked,  in  the  summary  of 
causes.  Iceland  not  only  possesses  twenty-five  active 
volcanoes,  but  the  most  of  them  have  sent  forth  erup- 


THE  RETURN  TO  REJKIAVIK. 


277 


tions  of  greater  magnitude  and  destructive  power  than 
any  others  in  the  world.  In  a land  where  human  life 
is  supported  on  such  a slender  basis,  the  temporary 
annihilation  of  one  of  the  two  chief  resources  is  equiv- 
alent to  an  inability  to  support  life  at  all. 

A few  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  an  extensive 
tract  of  fertile  land  around  the  base  of  the  Skaptar 
Jbkull,  near  the  southern  coast  of  the  island,  which 
is  now  a complete  desert.  The  terrific  eruptions  of 
this  volcano  not  only  covered  enormous  spaces  with 
lava,  but  destroyed  all  the  cattle  through  a much 
greater  extent  of  territory.  The  smoke  sent  forth  is 
full  of  metallic  dust,  partly  of  copper,  which  poisons 
the  pasturage  wherever  it  falls.  Wherever  this  occurs, 
famine  is  sure  to  follow,  with  pestilence  as  its  natural 
accompaniment.  In  the  year  1827,  the  Algerine  cor- 
sairs came  to  Iceland,  which  did  not  possess — as  it 
does  not  now— a fortification  ora  single  soldier.  They 
ravaged  all  places  near  the  coast,  where  the  greatest 
wealth  was  concentrated,  and  slaughtered  a great 
number  of  the  inhabitants.  During  the  eighteenth 
century,  there  were  eighteen  periods  of  famine,  and 
forty-three  years  during  which  all  vegetable  growth 
failed.  In  1707,  upwards  of  eighteen  thousand  per- 
sons died  of  small-pox  ; and  between  the  years  1783 
and  1785,  volcanic  eruptions,  famine  and  failure  of  veg- 
etation reduced  the  population  of  the  island  from  for- 
ty-eight thousand  six  hundred  and  sixty-eight  to  thir- 
ty-eight  thousand  one  hundred  and  forty-two.  Dur- 
ing this  calamitous  period,  the  scanty  commerce  of 
Iceland  was  wholly  in  the  hands  of  Danish  traders; 


27§ 


ICELAND 


native  enterprise  was  simply  impossible,  and  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  how  the  spirit  of  the  people  became  crushed. 
Helplessness  and  hopelessness  are  the  surest  causes 
of  moral  and  material  deterioration. 

So  late  as  1824-5  there  was  another  dismal  visita- 
tion of  famine,  and  in  1827  epidemic  diseases  ravaged 
the  island.  At  present,  as  I have  already  stated,  the 
population  is  about  seventy  thousand  more  than  it  has 
been  for  two  centuries.  Notwithstanding  the  unusual 
fertility  of  the  women,  the  number  increases  very 
slowly,  owing  to  great  mortality  among  the  children: 
out  of  one  thousand  born,  less  than  half  reach  the 
fourteenth  year.  Eighty-one  per  cent,  of  the  popula- 
tion live  by  raising  cattle,  and  only  about  ten  per  cent 
by  fishing.  In  1863  there  were  on  the  island  five  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  sheep,  thirty-five  thousand 
horses,  and  twenty-five  thousand  cattle,  and  the  value 
of  the  trade  with  Denmark  was  estimated  at  a little 
more  than  $1, coo, 000. 

The  first  requisite  for  Iceland  is  an  improvement  in 
the  physical  and  domestic  lives  of  the  people.  The 
Winters  are  not  very  severe,  and  the  habit  of  living  in 
such  close,  reeking  hovels  of  turf  evidently  originated 
in  the  cost  of  lumber  and  fuel.  Coal,  but  of  what 
quality  I am  not  able  to  state,  has  been  discovered  on 
the  island,  yet  it  will  be  of  little  advantage  until  there 
are  a few  practicable  main  lines  of  communication. 
The  fisheries  around  the  coast,  which  might  yield  so 
much,  are  a source  of  much  greater  wealth  to  France 
than  to  Iceland ; there  are,  at  this  moment,  five  thou- 
sand French  fishermen  in  these  waters,  with  two  fri- 


THE  RETURN  TO  REJKIAVIK.  279 

gates  in  Rejkiavik  harbor  to  take  care  of  them.  Pota- 
toes, beets,  turnips,  and  many  other  vegetables  might 
be  cultivated  to  a much  greater  extent  than  at  present. 
Wild  fowl  are  very  abundant,  yet  there  seem  to  be  no 
hunters.  The  temper  of  the  people  has  come  to  be 
that  of  grim,  patient,  chronic  endurance,  and  they  have 
neglected  even  the  few  scanty  sources  of  help  which  lie 
within  their  reach. 

We  rode  the  remaining  twenty  miles  to  Rejkiavik  in 
a dilapidated  condition  of  mind  and  body.  Instead  of 
a gallant,  compact  cavalcade,  with  whistle  sounding 
and  banners  advanced,  the  members  of  our  party 
straggled  along  the  road  for  miles,  singly,  or  in  mu- 
tually commiserating  pairs.  Captain  Von  Schroder, 
whose  horse  refused  to  carry  him,  was  picked  up  by  a 
merry  company  of  Icelandic  theological  students,  fur- 
nished with  a fresh  pony,  and  entertained  with  songs 
and  wine  at  the  last  byre  on  the  road.  But  the  storm, 
fortunately,  retreated  and  rested  on  the  black  northern 
mountains : the  sun  even  came  out,  soon  after  we  had 
forded  the  Salmon  River.  Then,  the  last  vigor  was 
called  out  of  our  ponies ; in  trot  and  gallop  we  cleared 
the  long,  stony  ridges,  until,  at  one  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon,  all  the  comfort  and  civilization  of  the  world 
seemed  to  beckon  us,  as  we  reached  the  beacon-tower 
of  Rejkiavik  and  saw  again  the  snug  houses  on  shore 
and  our  floating  home  in  the  harbor. 

Invitations  were  waiting  for  a ball  to  be  given  the 
following  (Sunday)  evening.  The  King  was  to  leave 
on  Monday  morning,  the  characteristic  festivities  were 
already  at  an  end,  and  we  speedily  decided  to  leave  the 


2S0 


ICELAND. 


next  morning.  A ball  is  a ball  all  over  the  world;  the 
presence  of  so  many  strangers  in  Rejkiavik  made  it 
difficult  to  get  fresh  supplies,  and  the  members  of  the 
more  important  families  were  growing  nervous  and 
unhinged  after  ten  days  of  greater  excitement  than 
had  been  packed  into  the  whole  previous  course  of 
their  lives.  So,  longing  for  rest  after  our  week  of 
chills  and  bruises,  we  yielded  to  the  proposal  of  our 
leader  and  said  good-bye  to  Iceland. 

Zoega  and  Geir  took  supper  with  us  on  board,  and 
Eyvindur  and  Jon,  hearing  at  a late  hour  of  our  pro- 
posed departure,  engaged  a boat  and  came  off  speci- 
ally to  say  farewell.  I may  add  that  Zoega’s  bill  for 
the  whole  expenses  of  the  inland  trip  was  perfectly 
honest,  although  not  even  the  cost  of  a single  item 
was  stipulated  in  advance.  The  boy  Geir  went  away 
supremely  happy  with  an  armful  of  books,  and  a small 
present  made  the  two  guides  our  friends  for  life.  The 
King,  who  had  sent  his  captain  during  the  afternoon 
to  pay  us  an  official  visit  in  his  name,  entrusted  us 
w’ith  his  telegrams  and  letters  for  England  and  Den- 
mark; the  French,  Swedish,  and  German  frigates  sent 
us  a considerable  mail ; and  it  wras  quite  evident  that, 
in  being  the  first  to  depart,  we  were  doing  a service  to 
all  the  others. 

Edinburgh,  August  14. 

Thank  Heaven  there  is  something  firmer  than  the 
waves  of  the  Northern  Ocean  under  my  feet!  For 
four  days  our  toy  of  a steamer  (registered  at  185 
tons)  tossed  and  bounced  on  the  lonely  waters, 
leaking  through  the  deck  planks,  until  a state  of 


THE  RETURN  TO  REJKIA  V IK.  2S1 

sodden  misery  seemed  to  be  our  doom.  Mr.  Glad- 
stone’s Icelandic  pony,  on  the  deck,  refused  hay 
and  water  for  two  whole  days;  but  Capt.  Howling’s 
horn-budding  ram,  with  a face  like  that  of  a mischiev- 
ous child,  looked  out  of  the  door  of  a dog-house,  and 
seemed  to  say  : “ You’ve  put  me  in  a strange  position, 
but  I’m  equal  to  it.”  Suavi  mare  magno — the  line  of 
Lucretius  always  returns  to  my  memory  with  special 
force  after  such  a voyage. 

We  had  had  no  observation  fora  day,  and  the  strong 
currents  in  those  seas  are  uncertain  and  perplexing ; 
but  our  gallant  captain,  who  stood  by  the  pilot-house 
in  the  storm  for  fifty-one  hours,  found  himself,  in  the 
dark  of  Thursday  morning’s  twilight,  just  between  the 
rocky  islets  of  Rona — a sort  of  outer  sentinel  of  the 
Hebrides.  By  six  o’clock  in  the  morning  we  reached 
Thurso,  the  most  northern  port  of  Scotland  where 
Messrs.  Field  and  Halstead  decided  to  go  ashore  and 
continue  their  journey  to  Edinburgh  by  rail.  The 
sea  had  become  perfectly  calm,  soft  blue  sky  greeted 
us  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  Iceland,  and  all  the 
aspects  were  so  favorable  that  the  rest  of  our  party 
remained  on  board. 

Yesterday,  in  fact,  was  the  pleasantest  of  the  whole 
voyage.  We  passed  the  Pentland  Firth,  between  the 
high  Orkneyan  cliffs  of  Hoy  and  John  o’Groat’s  House, 
made  a broad  stretch  across  the  mouth  of  Murray’s 
Firth,  and  during  the  late  afternoon  ran  down  the 
Scottish  coast,  through  fleets  of  fishing-craft,  literally 
thousands  in  number.  Warm  air,  level  sea — “Sleek 
Panope  with  all  her  sisters  played,” — sight  of  trees  on 


2S2 


ICELAND. 


shore  which  we  had  not  seen  for  a month,  made  the  run 
delightful;  but  the  night  brought  such  a hurricane  as 
has  not  been  experienced  for  years.  Pitchy  darkness 
covered  the  water;  the  rain  fell  in  sheets  ; a mass  of 
diffused  lightning  descended  directly  upon  our  vessel, 
enveloping  it  in  heat  like  that  of  a furnace,  and  the 
captain  was  obliged  to  heave  to  and  wait  till  the  first 
fury  was  over.  This  morning,  nevertheless,  we  were 
safe  inside  one  of  the  Leith  docks. 

The  end  of  our  strange  and  adventurous  journey 
occurred  this  afternoon.  Having  been  obliged  to  ship 
as  British  seamen  at  Aberdeen,  we  must,  of  necessity, 
be  formerly  mustered  out  of  the  service  before  the 
Captain  could  be  released  from  his  obligations  on  our 
behalf.  So. we  were  summoned  from  Edinburgh  to 
the  Marine  Office  at  Leith,  where  a certificate  of  dis- 
charge was  gravely  delivered  to  each  of  us,  we  wrote 
our  names  in  a portentous  folio  volume,  and  then  re- 
ceived, each,  one  shilling  of  Her  Majesty’s  currency, 
as  bounty.  On  examining  my  discharge,  I was  highly 
gratified  to  find  that  opposite  to  the  record  : “ Char- 
acter for  Ability  in  whatever  Capacity  engaged,”  stood 
the  written  report,  “ very  good,”  and  against  “ Char- 
acter for  Conduct,”  also  “ very  good.” 

If  the  readers  of  my  chronicles  are  equally  willing 
to  sign  this  certificate,  we  shall  now  part  as  the  best 
of  friends. 


FINIS. 


BAYARD  TAYLOR’S  WORKS, 


The  complete  works  of  bayard  taylor. 

In  sixteen  volumes.  Household  edition,  $34.  Half  Calf,  $56. 

The  Travels.  Separate,  eleven  volumes.  Household  edi- 
tion, $16.50. 

The  Novels.  Separate,  five  volumes.  Household  edition, 

$7.50. 

By-Ways  of  Europe.  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

contents: 

A Familiar  Letter  to  the  Reader.  A Cruise  on  Lake  Lagoda.  Retween  Europe  and 
Asia.  Winter-Life  in  St.  Petersburgh.  The  Little  Land  of  Appenzell.  From  Perpignan 
to  Mnntsearat.  Balearic  Days.  Catalonian  Bridle-Roads.  The.  Republic  of  the  Pyrenees. 
The  Grand  Chartreuse.  The  Kyffhnuser  and  its  Legends.  A week  at  Capri.  A Trip  to 
Ischia.  The  Land  of  Paoli.  Island  of  Maddalena.  In  the  Teutoberger  Forest.  The 
Suabian  Alp. 

Beauty  and  the  Beast  and  Tales  of  Home.  House- 
hold edition,  $1.50. 

“The  volume  is  one  which  will  attract  cultured  minds  hv  the  extreme  purity  of  its 
style  and  its  subtle  appreciation  of  the  finer  traits  of  charac•ter.,’— Phi/a.  Age. 

Central  Africa.  Life  and  Landscape  from  Cairo  to  the 

White  Nile.  Two  plates  and  Cuts.  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

“ We  have  read  many  of  Bayard  Taylor’s  readable  books — and  he  never  wrote  one  that 
wa*  not  extremely  interesting — but  we  have  never  been  so  well  pleased  with  any  of  his 
writings  as  we  are  with  the  volume  now  before  us,  ‘ A Journey  to  Central  Africa.’ 

II  high  a nipt  on  Uepublica  n . 

Eldorado  ; or,  Adventures  in  the  Path  of  Empire 

(Mexico  and  California).  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

“ To  those  who  have  more  recently  pitched  their  tents  in  California,  the  narrative  of 
Taylor  will  have  interest  as  assisting  them  to  appreciate  the  wondrous  changes  that  have 
been  effected  in  this  region  since  the  days  of  turmoil,  excitement  and  daring  speculation 
of  which  the  tourist  speaks.’’ — Sacramento  Union. 

Egypt  and  Iceland  in  the  Year  1874.  With  an  Ac- 
count of  an  Expedition  to  the  Fyoom  (never  before  printed).  By 
Bayard  Taylor.  Square  16mo,  cloth  extra,  $1.50  ; 12mo,  uniform  with 
the  Household  Edition  of  the  Works,  $1.50. 

Greece  and  Russia.  With  an  Excursion  to  Crete. 

Two  plates.  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

“ In  point  of  flowing  narrative  and  graphic  description,  this  volume  is  fully  equal  to 
the  previous  works  which  have  given  Mr.  Bayard  Taylor  such  an  eminent  place  among 
modern  travelers.” — Harper' $ Monthly. 

Hannah  Thurston.  A Story  of  American  Life. 

By  Bayard  Taylor.  Cheap  edition,  $1.50. 

“ If  Bayard  Taylor  has  not  placed  himself,  as  we  are  half  inclined  to  suspect,  in  the 
front  rank  of  novelists,  he  has  produced  a very  remarkable  book — a really  original  story, 
admirably  told,  crowded  with  life-like  characters,  full  of  delicate  and  subtle  sympathies, 
with  ideas  the  most  opposite  to  his  own,  and  lighted  up  throughout  with  that  playful  humor 
which  suggests  always  wisdom  rather  than  mere  fun.” — I,ondon  Spectator. 


Home  and  Abroad.  A Sketch-Book  of  Life,  Scen- 
ery, and  Men.  Two  plates.  Household  edition,  §1.50. 

Second  Series.  With  two  piates.  Household  edition,  $1-50. 

“ This  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  hooks  that  Bayard  Taylor  has  ever  made.  It  is  in 
a large  measure  autobiographical.  Whatever  has  most  impressed  him  in  any  part  of  the 
earth  is  noted  in  some  of  these  letters.’* — Taunton  Gazette. 

“A  volume  from  Bayard  Taylor  is  always  a pleasure.  He  not  only  knows  how  to 
travel  and  howto  enjoy  it,  but  he  excels  in  giving  entertainment  by  his  narration  to 
others.” — Bing >r  Whig. 

India,  China,  and  Japan.  Two  plates.  Household 

edition.  $1.50. 

“ Of  all  travelers  no  one  please;  ns  more  than  Bayard  Taylor.  He  sees  what  we  most 
desire  that  he  should  see,  and  ht  tells  us  that  which  we  most  desire  to  know.” — New  Bed- 
ford Mercnty. 

John  Godfrey’s  Fortunes,  Related  hy  Himself.  A 

Story  of  American  life.  By  Bavard  Taylor.  Household  edition, 
SI. 50. 

“ ‘John  Godfrey's  Fortune;,*  without  being  melodramatic  or  morbid,  is  one  of  the  most 
fiscinating  novels  which  we  have  ever  read.  It;  portraiture  of  American  social  life,  though 
Dot  flattering,  is  eminently  truthful ; its  delineation  of  character  delicate  and  natural  ; its 
English,  though  sometimes  careless,  is  singularly  graceful  and  pleasant.” — Cleveland 
Leader. 


Joseph  and  His  Friend.  A Story  of  Pennsyl 

vunia.  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

Bayard  Taylor’s  last  novel,  “ Joseph  and  His  Friend,”  has  reached  the  fourth  edition. 
A Western  critic  thinks  that  “This  quiet  and  characteristic  story  of  Pennsylvania  life  is  by 
far  the  best  novel  of  the  season.** 

Band  of  the  Saracen ; or,  Pictures  of  Palestine, 

Asia  Minor,  Sicily,  and  Spain.  With  two  plates.  Household 
edition,  $1.50. 

-Northern  Travel.  Summer  and  Winter  Pictures 

of  Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Lapland.  With  two  plates. 
Household  edition,  $1.50. 

“ There  is  no  romance  to  us  quite  equal  to  one  01*  Bayard  Taylor’s  books  of  travel.”— 
Jlartforl  Republican. 

The  Story  of  Kennett.  By  Bayard  Taylor.  Cheap 

edition,  $1.50. 

“ Mr  Bavard  Taylor's  book  is  deligh'fnl  end  refreshing  reading,  and  a great  rest  after 
the  crowded  aitistic  effects  and  the  conventional  interests  of  even  the  better  kind  of  Eng- 
lish novels.” — London  Si*ctat-/r. 

“ As  a picture  of  rural  life,  we  think  this  novel  of  Mr.  Taylor’s  excels  any  of  his  pre- 
vious productions.’* — iV.  Y.  Keening  P ost. 

“A  tale  of  absorbing  interest,*’ — Syracuse  Standard. 


Vmws  Afoot;  or.  Europe  Seen  with  Knapsack 

and  Staff.  Household  edition,  $1.50. 

“ We  need  say  nothing  in  praise  of  Bayard  Tavlor’s  writings.  He  travels  in  every 
direction,  and  sites  nnd  hears  pre’t*'  much  all  that  is  worth  seeing  and  hearing.  His 
descriptions  are  accurate  and  always  reaia'  le  and  interesting.’*— Syracuse  Journal. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM’S  SONS,  New  York. 


® v«fe ' :v'°. " '*&\'S 


